Incubus
by Jessa4865
Summary: Death is hardly the end for someone as determined as Samantha Carter. SamJack COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

Incubus  
Jezyk  
Spoilers: Set somewhere in Season 7, anything is fair game  
Disclaimer: I don't own them; I'm just taking them out for some fun. I'll put them back when I'm done. Promise.  
Sam/Jack, as always.

_AN: This is actually a mix of comedy and romance, with a smidge of angst. With that said, I have to warn you: Character Death… but so not in a depressing, sad ending kind of way. Think of it not so much as an ending, but simply as another obstacle, like rank or age difference._

_AN2: (from Webster's Comprehensive Dictionary): incubus - 1. anything that tends to weigh down or discourage; 2. a nightmare; 3. a demon supposed to descend upon the sleeping persons with who it sought to have sexual intercourse_

_AN3: There is some irreverence in here concerning religion and it's not intended to upset anyone. If you're going to get upset over it, don't read. Thanks!_

Prologue

The trip to the cabin was supposed to be relaxing. It was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to just be the two of them, kicking back for four days, seeing if they could really stand to be alone together in a social setting. And Jack, in his infinite wisdom that rarely intersected with reality, thought that with the help of beer, they might get lucky too.

The trip, however, did not turn out like it was supposed to. Sam had problems getting off the base and would have been much happier if she'd been allowed to attend to those problems rather than having to worry about leaving them in someone else's hands for fear Jack would actually leave without her. Running late and preoccupied, Sam was in a horrible mood when Jack picked her up.

Jack's mood wasn't any better since that afternoon's mail delivery had brought with it the estimate to repair the hole in his bumper where someone had been kind enough to hit him and disappear. The estimate totaled exactly $2.49 less than his deductible, rendering his insurance policy useless and making him particularly angry that he'd been paying the premium since his eighteenth birthday.

The ride seemed to take forever and the cabin was cold and Sam didn't like the food Jack brought and Jack didn't like that Sam had brought her laptop and they passed the rest of the night without speaking since neither of them really wanted to be there by then. Saturday morning started out a little more promising, but after spending the entire day sitting in a folding plastic chair by an empty lake and staring into space, Sam was getting stir crazy. Her laptop amused her for a few hours until the battery died. Jack hadn't realized anything was wrong at all until it had gotten too dark to pretend to fish and he'd gone inside to find Carter near tears over the low battery warning on her computer.

Her bitching started in earnest a few minutes later and Jack finally comprehended that Sam was completely unable to survive without electronic equipment for more than ten minutes and Sam fully understood that Jack actually enjoyed absolutely nothing to do for hours on end besides sit in a near-catatonic stare with a beer in his hand.

By eleven on Sunday, Jack had had it and he demanded Sam go home, going so far as to load her luggage in the truck before he even told her he'd paid for her chartered flight home. She appeared particularly unhappy about being uninvited, telling him that, as host, his job was to entertain her. Jack replied that she'd be entertained for years with the stories she could tell of how boring he was. They didn't bother speaking on the drive to East Gull Lake Airport, where Sam truly realized exactly what rural meant.

Jack felt a twinge of guilt as he watched Sam board the tiny little plane. She glanced at him as she stepped inside, her lips quirking the tiniest bit in the way of a smile. Jack lifted his hand to wave, knowing she also wished it had been different.

Jack spent Sunday afternoon seriously questioning what they'd been arguing about because he only knew that he missed her and couldn't quite figure out why he hadn't let her stay in the suddenly lonely little cabin. Jack spent Sunday evening realizing it had simply been too much pressure for their first date to be a four day trip. Jack spent Sunday night having nightmares that he would always be alone and woke up more than once utterly convinced that something was very, very wrong, something other than the fact that he was a jerk. Jack spent Monday driving home, reciting the apology he'd prepared over and over to be sure he'd get it right when he actually delivered it.

He was irritated when she didn't answer her phone, but he decided she was either still mad or she was working. On Tuesday morning, he returned to work, expecting to find her eating her breakfast with Daniel, as he did nearly everyday, and talking about what a jerk he was. Instead, he found Daniel alone at the table, pouring over the newspaper. Jack had really been hoping to spare himself the humiliation of admitting what happened by apologizing to Sam before she got the chance to tell anyone, particularly Daniel.

"Daniel, have you talked to Carter?"

Daniel didn't even look up. "Huh?"

"Daniel?"

"Huh?"

Still grumpy, Jack yanked the paper out of his friend's hands. "What's so fascinating?" He barely got the words out before he saw the picture on the front page. He recognized the numbers on the mangled section of the plane. All the air rushed out of his lungs, leaving him unable to speak.

"I was just looking at that plane that crashed. It was only a few miles out of town." He glanced at Jack and somehow missed the dazed expression. "It's been two days and they still haven't managed to identify the people. The pilot never filed a flight plan." He took the paper back, studying the picture with a curiosity only detachment could bring. "I think that's the worst way to go. Knowing you're falling and not being able to save yourself." He took a sip of his orange juice, flipping to the weather page before laying aside the paper and finally noticing all the color had drained from Jack's face. "Jack?"

Thankfully, the shock kept Jack completely numb. "Carter was on that plane."

The meaning of the words simply didn't register in Daniel's mind. "I thought you guys were driving."

Jack had slipped into disbelieving numbness quicker than one might have anticipated. "We had a fight so I chartered her a flight and sent her home."

Daniel's mind didn't give him the benefit of being numb. "On that plane?" His voice was already choked with tears without hearing a response; he knew Jack wouldn't joke about that. "Sam was on that plane? She's dead?" His voice was loud and his tears obvious, drawing the concerned attention of everyone in the room.

Jack only sat and stared straight ahead, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, doing nothing.

Long after Daniel had left to verify the information, long after a hundred people tried to get him to respond, Jack just sat and stared.

Only one thing rolled through his head, endlessly repeating: he'd killed her.

He wanted to die.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sam was not happy. There were a multitude of reasons why she was unhappy - she was in a long line, she hated waiting in long lines, her shoes were pinching her toes, the trip to the cabin with Jack had been a disaster of mythic proportion that Daniel was never going to let her live down, the fight with Jack had been completely ridiculous, and the simple truth that the fight with Jack had led to the disgraceful end of the horrid trip with Jack evicting her from his precious cabin. But certainly the most pressing issue and the one that made her the most unhappy of all was the inexorable fact that she had no idea what she was doing at the Department of Motor Vehicles nor how she'd gotten there.

Since she didn't know why she was there, she was tempted, very, very tempted, to leave, thus solving several of her problems at once. But the line was quite long behind her and she didn't want to lose her place in case she remembered why she was there on her way back to the parking lot she didn't remember parking in. With the rate the line was moving, she figured she had at least an hour before she would reach the counter. An hour was plenty of time to come up with a legitimate reason for being there and plenty of time for her to recall the real reason she was there, provided the possibly boredom induced mental lapse was cleared up by then. And really, solving the problem of her feet hurting was only going to draw her attention to the bigger, more cumbersome problems with Jack and her brain function and Sam didn't like to draw her attention to big, cumbersome problems unless she was able to offer quick, simple solutions to them.

With the benefit of time to think, Sam realized that it wasn't all Jack's fault. She wanted to call him and apologize, to make sure they were back to normal by the time she saw him at work on Tuesday, to remind him that she wasn't always a colossal bitch unless he was being a colossal ass. She patted her pockets, happy to find that she'd remembered her phone during her sudden amnesiac episode. The indicator blinked brightly at her, informing her there was no service. She was annoyed, especially after embarrassing herself doing the cell-phone-no-service dance which had no effect at all and promptly remembering that doing the cell-phone-no-service dance had never once had an effect besides the occasional person telling her where the nearest restroom was.

The more she thought about it, the worse she felt for being pissy with Jack. She'd expected to be entertained and it had only just occurred to her that the whole point of the two of them going up to the cabin alone together for four days was so they could entertain each other. She slapped herself in the forehead for her idiocy, forgetting until she'd smacked it into her head that she was still holding her cell phone. She rubbed the sore spot and glanced around nervously, hoping she didn't know anyone who'd witnessed her utterly embarrassing last few moments.

Out of options, Sam faced forward, resigning herself to the despondency of standing in line. It was even less fun than fishing.

Sam's toes had mercifully gone numb by the time she reached the front of the line. Folding her arms on the counter, she stared blankly at the woman before her. The woman was heavyset, middle-aged, and wearing reading glasses secured to her neck with a beaded chain. Her nametag said Marge and Sam thought that she had never once met anyone who so thoroughly matched their name. Marge looked up at Sam and with a single sigh reminded Sam how very important it was to enjoy one's occupation. Sam tried to smile, more out of a need for self-preservation than anything resembling etiquette.

Marge spoke, unveiling the most irritating nasal voice Sam had ever heard. "Name?"

"Um-" After spending so much time in line not speaking and not talking and resolutely not thinking, her mind was a bit sluggish.

Marge clicked on her keyboard. "I'm sorry, you're not in our system. Next."

Shocked into consciousness, Sam's mind started to work again. "Samantha Carter. My name is Samantha Carter."

Marge blinked, obviously weighing her options. "Then why did you say it was um?"

"Um-"

Marge blinked again. "Oh, you're stupid. I get it." She started typing and Sam knew she shouldn't upset her, but she just couldn't let it slide.

"I'm not stupid. I wasn't prepared for the question."

"How long have you been in line?"

Sam had always hated the DMV, but she didn't recall it ever having been so bad. "A long, long time."

"Yes, and how many times have you heard me ask the names of the people in front of you?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping." That sounded good. She'd stick with that.

Marge pushed her glasses down further on her nose so she could glare disapprovingly at Sam while she read whatever was on her screen. Sam watched closely, hoping that Marge would clue her in as to why she was there. It was in that intense scrutiny that Sam saw a flicker of something never before witnessed on the face of an employee at the DMV: compassion. The other woman disguised it quickly, but it distressed Sam. For her to show emotion, something had to be very bad indeed.

Marge pushed a clipboard across the counter. "Please sign here."

Sam looked at the paper, almost filled with name after name after name. The thick section of turned pages appeared to also contain name after name after name. "What is this?"

"It's the registry."

"Registry for what?" Sam didn't want to accidentally sign up for something she wouldn't be able to weasel her way out of later.

"It's the registry of souls. When you die, you get in line. When you reach the front of the line, you sign the registry, your soul is then officially disembodied and you are free to go about your business." Marge's delivery convinced Sam that she'd said the same words a couple billion times. Sam could only hope Marge's escape from the mental asylum was going to be remedied quickly before Marge had to repeat it.

"I'm sorry, what?" Souls? Die? Disembodied? Sam shook her head and noticed Marge's face hadn't softened. "I must have misheard you."

"No, you didn't. Please sign." Marge offered her a pen.

"Then I'm dreaming."

"If you're dreaming, it's not going to make one bit of difference whether you sign the book or not, now is it?" Marge thrust the pen toward her.

Sam leaned forward, refusing to acknowledge the registry and the pen. "I'm little slow. Can you explain this to me?"

Marge's eyes flicked to her computer screen. "Your IQ, Miss Carter, is well above genius level. This is not a difficult concept. Please sign the registry."

Sam scoffed. "I'll have you know this is a difficult concept. I am not dead."

Marge winced. "Please keep your voice down."

"Why? Because all these people will get mad to find out they've been waiting in this line all this time for a new license only to find you telling them they're dead?"

"No, I have a headache. I've been working here for a much longer time than you've been standing in that line, honey."

Sam's anger faded the slightest bit in sympathy. "That must be a terrible way to live. If you hate your job, why don't you quit?"

"It's a living." Marge snickered, as did the other employees who overheard. "Sorry, death humor."

"That's not funny at all." Sam wasn't quite sure what to make of her dream, but she decided her subconscious was trying to tell her something pretty important.

Marge frowned. "You're going to have to develop a sense of humor if you're going to survive." More giggles from the peanut gallery. Marge frowned harder, forming deep crevasses in the haggard skin of her face. "Get used to it, honey. Now, if you don't mind, please sign here."

Sam narrowed her eyes. "No."

"What?"

"I'm not signing. I'm not dead. This is not happening."

Marge stared at her, eventually breaking eye contact to look at her computer screen. "Do you remember being on a plane recently?"

Sam nodded, wondering if her subconscious was trying to tell her not to fall asleep on a plane after fighting with Jack.

"Do you remember falling really fast in that plane?"

Disconcerting as it was, that part did sound a little familiar, but Sam pushed it to the back of her mind. "Look, lady, I'm not dead. I'm here. Right here. See?" She held her hand in front of Marge's face and was quite displeased to discover that she could still sort of see Marge's face through it.

"Sign, please."

"No. I. Am. Not. Dead." Sam had never found any usefulness in being obstinate, but she wasn't seeing any harm in trying it out.

Marge held up her hand, waving it around in the air and making airplane noises like one might when trying to get a kid to eat his peas. Then she smashed her hand down on the registry. "Boom! Dead." She moved her hand, picking up the pen and offering it to Sam again. "You should be thankful. It was instant and painless."

Sam wanted to point out that there had been an incredibly distressing period of time during that falling really fast thing she wasn't admitting to remembering where she had been acutely aware of her impending death and she wanted to mention that had made it hardly seem instant and painless to her, but she decided she should refuse to admit that too. Unfortunately, her eyes started to water and her lips started to turn downward in that horrible involuntary contortion that always immediately prefaced hysterical tears. She shook her head resolutely, knowing the tears didn't help her stance.

Marge handed her a tissue wrapped conveniently around the pen. "There you go, honey, it's starting to click. Most people get confused unless they knew it was coming."

Sam dabbed at her eyes, holding the pen uncertainly in her hand. "Could you check again? Maybe this is a mistake. Why would all that information be in my driving record?"

Marge grimaced, but said nothing. Her eyes glazed over in boredom at the sight of the ten billionth person she'd watched contemplate accepting their death.

"This isn't the DMV, is it?"

Marge shook her head. "Not today. Try back some other time."

"Could you please check again? I'm sure this is all a big misunderstanding. See, I'm not done living yet."

"I don't need to look again. Your case is quite memorable because it's one of the few times that there has actually been a mistake."

"What?" Sam's heart leapt. She wanted to hug Marge. "So I can fix this? What do I need to do?" She set the pen down, happy that she hadn't already signed the soul list.

"Unfortunately, you're already dead. If only the system was psychic, then we could fix the mistakes before they were made." Marge's hardened face started to twitch. She wasn't used to mistakes. They were so rare.

Sam blinked in complete unacceptance. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh, we're back to that now?"

Sam raised her voice, hoping Marge's headache would spur her to be cooperative. "You just admitted there was a mistake. Fix it now."

"There's no way to fix it. Your caseworker apparently mixed up your file with Sandra Carter's file and filled out the paperwork for the wrong Miss Carter. Once it was finished, there was simply no way to stop the chain of events leading to your demise."

Sam thought about it for a moment, distracted by the idea that there'd been a mix-up. A cosmic screw up would certainly have been the only logical explanation for her weekend. That understanding immediately gave way to anger. "Are you kidding me? I'm dead because someone signed the wrong form?"

Marge nodded. "Unfortunately. I'm sorry there's nothing we can do."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sam folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes, ignoring the exasperated sigh of the man behind her. "Put me back. It was a mistake. Your mistake. You admitted it. Now put me back and I won't get mad."

"It wasn't my mistake, miss. It was your case worker's error. But it's done." She pushed the registry toward Sam again. "Please sign. You're holding up the line."

Sam leaned forward again, hoping to play on Marge's nice side which she hoped actually existed. "Please, Marge. You don't understand. It's very important that I not be dead. There's someone who will take this very badly." Although she'd managed to not think about Jack since she'd determined she wouldn't, her words immediately conjured the idea of him finding out she was dead. She didn't want to think about it as tears threatened again.

"It's a shame, miss. You lived a very good life and you were supposed to live a very long life with a very special man, but that's all changed now because you're already dead. Now be a sweet girl like you always have been and follow the rules. Sign here."

Sam snarled at Marge. The rules were the wrong thing to mention to her. "I demand that you put me back. I deserve another chance!"

Marge smiled. "Another chance? Sure." She reached under the counter and pulled out a form. "Applications for reincarnation must be filled out completely and in triplicate and should be accompanied by at least sixteen recommendations. If you make it through the first twelve rounds of screening, you'll be notified of your appointment time for an interview by the application screening review board. It's a time consuming process, but we feel it cuts down on the number of unacceptable souls who have a second chance, if you know what I mean."

Sam had never been one for rash decisions in her life, so she thought she shouldn't be one for them in death either. She was sure she could talk her way through the screening process and get back to living so she could find Jack, provided time consuming was just a way to deter her from trying. "How time consuming?"

"Several centuries, at least. Whoever you wish to speak with will most certainly be long dead."

"I don't want to be reincarnated into another century. I want to be reincarnated back into my body right now."

Marge let out a sigh and Sam wanted to smack her for it. "That's simply impossible."

"Why?" Sam had skirted the edge of impossible in her corporeal life so she saw no reason why heaven couldn't do the same.

"Because, you see-" Marge held up a paper fresh off the printer. "The activation of death form has been signed by your case worker."

"Then get some white-out and un-activate it, damn you!"

"Miss, please move aside." Marge was done with her, but Sam wasn't having it.

"You could give me the white-out and I'll take care of it." Sam waited a moment, not quite expecting her idea to sail. "I want to speak with your supervisor."

Marge grimaced. "I'm afraid God is quite busy right now, but I'll leave a message on his desk for him to contact you as soon as he's available."

"When will that be?" Sam was kind of hoping he would remember her from all those prayers she'd said as a little girl wishing for good things and happiness for all the world and also kind of hoping he'd forgotten when she decided it was all a crock after her mother died.

"Longer than reincarnation. Most people start the reincarnation process while they're waiting. Sometimes, by the second time they die, God is ready to see them."

Sam's hope was fading, but she wasn't giving up. She just couldn't leave Jack. She knew he'd blame himself and she needed to find a way to tell him it was her case worker's fault and not his. "Isn't there any middle-management?"

"I'm afraid they were all let go during the merger. This structure allows for more direct communication." Marge's fake smile was back in place.

"There are mergers in heaven? People get fired?" She shook her head and reminded herself that she was on a mission. "Who's responsible for making sure the caseworkers don't sign the wrong form?"

"That would be God, miss. And like I said, he's busy. He does have all of creation to oversee."

Sam's face fell. She wasn't getting anywhere. "So that's it? Someone wasn't paying attention and I'm just dead and there isn't a damn thing anyone can do about it?"

"Death isn't fair." Marge chuckled to herself.

"Is this funny to you?"

"It's a play on words. Death isn't fair? Like life isn't fair, only it's death?" Marge went back to scowling. "Give it a few million years. You'll develop a sense of humor."

Sam found herself thinking about the stupid jokes and how Jack would be in heaven there. Then she started to smile. The sense of humor was developing faster than Marge hoped. "Look, Marge, there has to be something you can do. Look at my file. I've saved the whole Earth a bunch of times. Doesn't that count for something?"

Marge checked her computer screen. "That was you? Oh, yes, let me tell you, we've been quite grateful each and every time, dear. Can you imagine how long it would take to process all those souls? We'd be here for all of eternity!" Marge started to laugh again.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, more heaven humor."

"You're catching on. You sure are a bright one, aren't you?"

"So someone makes a huge mistake and I have to suffer for it? Are you certain there's nothing I can do about it?"

"You could have been more careful."

"What? How could I be careful enough to keep my case worker from signing the wrong form?"

Marge shrugged. "If you'd stood out more, your case worker would have known you from Sandra, now wouldn't he?"

Sam felt depressed suddenly. "I didn't stand out?" She'd stood out everywhere she'd ever been only to get to heaven and find out she was a nobody.

"Look, since you saved Earth and all that, I'll give you a little hint. The reincarnation thing is useless if you're trying to contact someone. It's pretty much useless all the way around. I wouldn't bother if I were you." Marge nodded over at the line on the other side of the room. It was unfathomable.

Sam squinted. "Is that Hitler?"

Marge smiled. "Do you know him?"

Sam's mouth fell open in shock. "What? No! Of course not! He's horrible! He's evil! What's he doing here?"

"Everyone winds up here."

"This really sucks."

"Picture it from my perspective."

Sam thought about it. "Yeah, I guess that would suck too." Sam noticed another line, long, but not nearly as long as the one for reincarnation. All of the people in it looked hopeful too. "What's that one for?"

"Soul mates."

"You get in line to get a soul mate?" That was even more depressing than the rest of the afterlife.

Marge chuckled. "No, dear, the first one of a pair to die is invited to wait in that line until their partner joins them. Then the pair decides what to do together." She looked at her screen and then winked at Carter. "I bet you'll be getting an invitation."

"I don't like waiting, Marge, and I did you a lot of favors by saving Earth." Sam was going to keep playing that card until it stopped working. At least Marge had started giving her helpful information. "What are my options here?"

"You're dead, miss. There aren't a lot of options."

"Give me one besides standing here and waiting for Jack to die." Sam paused for a moment. "And don't you dare say stand over there and wait for Jack to die."

Marge's face fell. Then she pointed to her right at an empty counter with a bored looking girl eagerly watching everyone who walked past. "You could try haunting."

Sam eyed the counter suspiciously, inherently distrustful of anything without a line. "How does that work?"

"Besides being terribly frustrating?"

Sam glared. "I didn't realize being frustrating was something you were trying to avoid here."

Marge frowned. "It doesn't require any screening. You just sign the form and go."

"That easy?"

"On this end." Marge looked at her watch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" There had to be a catch and Sam wasn't leaving the counter until she knew what it was.

"A lot of souls try it. It's just that most of the living don't really believe in ghosts, even though they claim they do and go to movies about ghosts and such. They don't actually expect to see you once you're dead."

"So? If you're there, you're there, right?" It seemed so painfully easy.

"Not exactly. The living have a terribly irritating way of completely ignoring things that are inconvenient and seeing the dead is apparently quite inconvenient for the living. If the person you're there to see doesn't believe in ghosts, he won't be able to see you." Marge shrugged. "So you'll spend your time trying to make him notice you, which he'll never do because he doesn't believe in you. Mostly only the real wackos can see you and therefore that's the only interaction you're going to get and therein lies the frustration." Marge smiled. "But if you're determined to do the impossible, be my guest."

Sam smiled brightly. "Check my file. The impossible is my specialty." She picked up the pen from the counter and signed the registry.

Marge nodded. "Good luck. Next!"

Taking a deep breath, Sam walked up to the counter. "Hi, I'd like to try haunting, please."

The girl giggled. "Oh, great! Wonderful. Fabulous. I haven't had any clients all day. Here you go!" She handed over another clipboard just like the registry one, except there were no names on it. "It's been a terribly long day."

Sam's hand held the pen suspended just over the blank line. "Any instructions? Advice?"

"Nope."

"Ok." She pressed the pen to the pad and signed her name. "So what now?"

The girl smiled. And then the whole room disappeared.


	4. Chapter 3

_AN: Here's another smidge of angst... who else wants to lobby for a third category for fics? Enjoy!_

Chapter Three

Sam had no clue what she was doing, where she wanted to go, or how she was going to get there. But she'd never been one to rely on manuals, directions, or even helpful hints from other people, so she decided she would figure it out on her own, the way she'd always done everything in her life. She decided she should check on Jack, but somehow, thinking of him immediately brought to mind Daniel and Teal'c. And suddenly, she was standing in a cemetery. She recognized it - it was the one her mother was buried in. Her attention focused on her mother's gravestone, remembering all the times she hadn't bothered to go visit because as a scientist she didn't believe in the afterlife and saw no point in it. She so hated being wrong. It was embarrassing, even after she was dead. She made a mental note to see if she could find her mother and apologize.

She saw her own casket and the sprays of flowers arranged around it. She saw her brother and the other members of her family gathered on one side. Sam was sure it was Mark's insistence that resulted in her being buried locally rather than in Arlington. She was sure her father would have argued the other side, but she didn't really care. Marge had made it quite clear that her body wasn't going to be of any use, so she didn't particularly care where they left it.

On the opposite side of the coffin, she spotted Daniel and Teal'c. Her father was with them, as was General Hammond. In fact, the crowd gathered on the apparent Air Force side of the funeral amazed her. There had to be over a hundred people there.

But rather than feeling good about how many people cared for her, she felt horrible for the one person who didn't.

Jack wasn't there.

She snarled, wishing she had something to throw. There she'd been, all sorry for being a bitch to him, and he hadn't shown up at her funeral. She'd known he was mad, but not showing up at her funeral was a whole new concept of mad that she hadn't even realized existed. She approached the crowd slowly, forgetting that she was only a spirit and trying her best to remain unnoticed by the priest. Snickering to herself, she realized that the priest was probably the last one among them to believe in ghosts.

She listened to the stranger's words, somberly reflecting on how truly special she must have been to have such an outpouring of love in her memory. Sam rolled her eyes, bitter about the lack of outpouring from Jack. She moved next to someone she vaguely recognized from the base. The airman shivered suddenly, glancing out of the corner of his eye toward her. Because of his curious stare, Sam forgot entirely about the spirit thing again.

"What?" Being a major, low ranking airmen didn't usually look at her like that.

The airman shivered again, shifting over closer to the guy next to him who didn't appreciate it.

While she stood there, trying to decide what to do next, it occurred to her that the interminable line at heaven's version of the DMV had really been as unbelievably long as it had felt. If her funeral was being held, several days had obviously already passed. After what felt like forever, the priest finished the service and the crowd started breaking up.

Sam watched as the people scattered in small groups. She was filled with loathing for all of them, irrationally hating that they could go off to have dinner and talk about how tragic her death was for a few more days and then get on with their own lives. Meanwhile, Sam had to float about uselessly or stand in merciless lines waiting for people to upset her. Some afterlife she was having. She wondered if she could start a petition that disembodied souls be allowed to do something besides float around and be bored and frustrated. She thought about leaving a note at the soul mate counter for Jack, provided she ever got that invitation Marge hinted at, telling him that she'd gone ahead and gotten reincarnated and that he should join her ASAP. But she thought it might be bad luck or something. She'd never been one to believe in superstition or curses or really even luck, but she hadn't believed in souls and the afterlife and she wasn't taking any more chances on making herself look like an idiot.

As soon as the crowd had gone, she sidled up to the two remaining - Daniel and Teal'c. They were standing next to each other, staring resolutely ahead. Sam searched their faces for some hint of recognition, figuring if her friends couldn't see her she would just give up on the haunting altogether. She smiled when she saw Teal'c's face turn toward her the slightest bit. He said nothing, but his raised eyebrow told her that he felt her, even if he couldn't see her. Encouraged, she reached out, aiming to take his hand in hers.

It was the weirdest thing she'd ever felt. It felt completely normal - he was solid, warm, real. Yet at the same time, there was no response from him, no answering pressure to her squeeze. She wasn't sure if it was better or worse than having her hand slide through his. Looking up again, she saw his eyes close and then a tiny smile appear on his face.

A tear came to her eye as he nodded respectfully to her. He knew she was there. He felt her. Realizing the bond between them was that strong amazed her. She knew he would be fine. She hoped he would be the link she needed. "Teal'c?" He showed no reaction to her words. He hadn't heard.

She stepped past him, deciding to try Daniel next. But as she moved forward, she realized why neither of them had left.

Jack was there between them, sitting in a crumpled heap on the wet grass where he'd obviously collapsed at some point. His friends were standing on either side of him, trying to support him by being there.

Sam let out a whine, feeling the pain she saw in his stricken face. He was taking it as badly as she'd feared. She could tell just by looking at him that he hadn't eaten or slept or done much of anything since she'd died. She knelt down in front of him, instinctively trying to catch his eyes, wanting to assure him silently as she always had that she was there.

But he looked right through her, unseeing. His expression didn't change. His eyes showed no hint of recognition.

She reached out for him, feeling the stubble on his unshaven cheeks as she cupped his face in her hands. She felt the warmth of his skin, the tickle of his breath as her fingers grazed his lips. But it was clear that he felt nothing, saw nothing, as he stared straight ahead. "It's me, Jack. It's ok. I'm here."

"Jack, we should go." Daniel's voice called her attention and she looked up, startled to see streaks of tears on her friend's face. "You're going to get sick sitting out here in the rain."

Sam hadn't noticed the weather until he mentioned it, but she realized the steady drizzle that had been coming down had shifted into a downpour, drilling onto the tent that stood over them.

"Daniel Jackson, there is little usefulness in attempting to converse with O'Neill. He should be left alone to grieve for his wife." Sam's head snapped up at the quiet man's words. She started to wonder if everyone had gone insane.

"They weren't married, Teal'c." Daniel's voice was soft, quiet, not quite stern enough to be a correction. Sam got the impression Daniel used that voice to talk Jack into things like eating and sleeping.

Teal'c indicated Jack's unresponsive form. "This is not the behavior of a warrior who has lost a comrade. This is clearly a man who has lost his mate."

Daniel shrugged, unable to dispute the veracity of Teal'c's words. "They still weren't married."

"I have always seen an exclusive bond between them. I consider their bond to be a marriage."

Daniel shrugged again at no one. There was no point. Daniel knew, as did Sam, that there was no one else for either one of them.

Teal'c bent down, reaching one hand under Jack's arm and effectively forcing him to his feet with some help from Daniel. "We should leave this area."

Jack didn't seem to notice that his friends were lifting him, let alone speaking. Sam stood up, staring into his eyes. She shivered at what she saw there - a dark void. He didn't seem to have any life in him at all.

"Come on, Jack, let's go home." Daniel kept looking at Jack, seeming hopeful that his friend would eventually respond.

Sam looked at Daniel, trying to get his attention instead. She moved in front of him, trying to get him to notice her and wondering if telekinesis worked for ghosts. Daniel squinted slightly, his eyes moving down the slightest bit to meet hers. It was working. She smiled. "Daniel?"

Shaking his head, he turned to Teal'c, no longer seeming to notice her at all. "Teal'c, help me get him to the car."

Sam stood there, watching Daniel and Teal'c prod Jack forward. Jack was doing very little to help them, but he was uncharacteristically offering no resistance to them helping him either. She realized why Marge had told her it was so frustrating. Jack's heart was broken. He had no idea that she was still there with him. And she had no way to tell him.

"Take care of him, guys." She could only hope that her whisper found its way across the growing space between them.

She had to find some way to break the barrier. She was sure she could. She knew she could. She just needed time to think.

She stood in the cemetery, watching as they drove away. Marge had said only someone who believed would be able to see her. Teal'c had noticed something; Daniel had almost seemed to feel her as well. But neither one of them seemed particularly aware of it consciously. So it came down to a simple question: who did she know that was a simp?


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Without even consciously thinking it, she found herself at the SGC, in the doorway of Daniel's office. Obviously time as passed quicker than she'd realized once again because Daniel was back at work. She looked around, her eyes finding the calendar pinned to the wall. Although it was still on the same page it had been the last time she'd seen it, something told her that was due more to Daniel's lack of attentiveness rather than the date. Of course, that something might have been the fact that he hadn't turned the calendar in over three years, but Sam ignored it.

Daniel was her best shot. He was the most likely of all of them to believe in some kind of existence after death - he had died a bunch of times, after all, and he was still standing. He was also a sucker for just about everything anyone had ever presented to him. He was so gullible, in fact, that Jack had actually tired of playing practical jokes on him since Daniel's reaction was always the same - utter, albeit transient, disillusionment and hurt. If she couldn't get Daniel to believe ghosts, she was screwed.

"Daniel?"

He was pouring over a thick book and when she spoke, he held up his hand to quiet her. "Give me a sec, Sam."

She smiled, thinking it was going to be easier than she'd expected. "Now, Daniel."

"What?" He looked up, a strange look passing over his face when he looked around the empty room. He shook his head, screwing his face into a disappointed frown. "Of course she's not here. She's dead." His face fell and he squeezed his eyes closed. Putting his head down in his hands, Sam heard him draw in a few shaky breaths. She wanted to cry the first time he'd died, but somehow it shocked her to see him still so upset. Crying at a funeral didn't count, she determined, since she cried at all funerals, even make-believe ones on TV. Daniel adjusted his glasses a moment later and went back to his book.

Ok, so she'd suspected that was just too easy. Sam puttered around his office, feeling bad for upsetting him. She used the time to investigate her limitations. She could feel things, smell things, but she couldn't move them. She wondered if that was something she could learn to do or if she was limited to just watching. She concentrated on a piece of paper, feeling the edge of it and trying to slide it the slightest bit with her finger. Nothing happened. Nothing happened repeatedly. Nothing happened all eight zillion times she tried. Infuriated, she slammed her fist down on the pile of papers.

Amazingly, a few of them cascaded to the floor.

Daniel looked up, saw the papers and sighed. He muttered something about the air conditioning as he stood up to collect them into a messy pile. He hesitated when he stepped close to her, so close she felt his sleeve press against her arm. She backed up while he shook his head. She was getting to him. She just had to keep it up until he admitted that he felt her - she had a feeling that was when he'd finally be able to see her. She could torture him senseless. Her brother had always told her she was the most annoying person in the world when they were little.

Standing behind him, she leaned in close. "Daniel!" She hoped her shout would have an effect.

But seeing Daniel jump a foot in the air and hearing him shriek like a school girl wasn't exactly the effect she was going for. He walked past her, once he'd glared at the empty space she occupied, and looked out in the hallway. "Is someone there?"

She smiled, figuring she was wearing him down.

"I am here. As is O'Neill." Teal'c's face appeared in the doorway, a haggard, tired, old looking Jack at his side.

"Me too!" Sam decided it wouldn't hurt to try all three of them at once.

Teal'c looked in her direction, but said nothing. Jack was staring at nothing and Sam's unheard voice was hardly enough to distract him from it. "Are you expecting someone, Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel glanced in Sam's direction uneasily. "Did you see anyone in the hall when you were coming in?"

"We did not."

Sam felt awful for not being able to do more, especially seeing the way Teal'c spoke for Jack in a way that made her aware that he was quite used to doing so.

"I think someone's screwing with me." Daniel looked around, raising his voice. "And it's not funny!"

"No, I'm trying to talk to you." Sam watched as Teal'c and Daniel turned to her, both squinting in her direction.

Daniel turned back to Teal'c. "Did you need something?"

Teal'c also ignored her, which Sam actually found more irritating that Jack's complete unawareness of her presence. "We came to inquire if you have eaten lunch."

Sam, who hadn't even thought about food since her untimely demise, was distracted from her pursuit of recognition long enough to realize she really wanted to eat. She wasn't hungry, but she missed tasting food. The desire for chocolate overwhelmed her. Daniel always had candy bars in his desk and Sam, in her desperation for chocolate, grabbed for the top drawer. Because she was so focused on it, she saw her hand connect with the wood, resulting in the drawer rattling. Sam looked up, hoping someone else had noticed the sound.

Teal'c smiled in her direction and turned to Daniel to speak, but before words came out, he seemed to remember Jack's silent, despondent presence beside him. "It does appear someone is trying to get your attention, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel's voice was a whine when he replied. "It's not funny. I wish they would knock it off."

Teal'c was silent as he realized Daniel wasn't quite understanding the message. He nodded finally. "Will you be accompanying us for lunch?"

Daniel eyed the drawer and the stack of papers and the chair Sam had thrown herself in dejectedly. "Yeah, I might as well."

Sam joined her friends, sliding in the elevator with them just before the doors closed. The buttons taunted her. She couldn't resist - she jabbed at the button for sublevel nineteen where her lab had been. The button lit up in response. She was quite pleased with her results, squealing with glee at her success. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment for doing so until she remembered that no one could hear her. It made her feel a little better.

The guys, however, took no notice of the button until the door slid open on her floor. They all looked up, startled to discover their location. For some reason, that was the one time Jack actually noticed anything without Teal'c prodding him. Jack saw the hallway, the one they all associated with her. His face was hopeful for a second as though he almost expected her to appear. And then he closed his eyes, his face twisting as he tried to hold back tears.

Daniel reached past Sam, trying to get the doors to close. "Sorry, force of habit." His face was guilty as he glanced at Jack. "I don't even remember hitting that button."

"You did not, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's words were sure and Sam's face burned red again, certain that he had heard her silly squeal.

Daniel looked at him curiously. "I'm losing my mind."

Teal'c's eyes darted in Sam's direction. "I do not believe that you are."

Sam narrowed her eyes, stepping toe to toe with Teal'c. "You can see me, can't you?"

His eyes focused on hers for only a moment before the doors once again opened, revealing the correct floor for the mess. With a hand on Jack's arm to drag him along, Teal'c led the way. Jack only made it a few steps before he pealed off into the bathroom. Sam was pleased to see there were some things he could still do on his own; she didn't want to imagine the sorts of rumors that would fly if Jack needed to be told to use the bathroom.

Sam expected the guys would continue on to get a table and not wait for Jack. But they both stopped, Teal'c leaning against the wall and Daniel staring at the closed elevator doors.

"You know, it still feels like she's here sometimes. I keep expecting to see her when I look up." Daniel abandoned his study of the elevator and leaned on the wall next to Teal'c.

"I too feel her presence strongly at times." Teal'c's head turned in Sam's direction as she uttered a frustrated sigh. She hated to admit it, but Marge was right. Even though they had some idea she was there, they were refusing to acknowledge it and that was driving Sam nuts. She suspected they were both afraid to mention it to each other for fear of embarrassing themselves and so both tried to pretend they didn't notice anything weird.

"I could have sworn I heard her voice in my office before you got there. I actually answered her until I realized what I was doing."

"It is common in human culture for survivors to believe they continue to have contact with the dead in some way. I believe it is an outlet for unresolved emotions." Sam wanted to smack Teal'c for his arrogance, considering he seemed to be the most receptive of the three.

"I don't have any unresolved emotions for her, Teal'c. She was my friend. Now she's gone." He sighed and shook his head, glancing up to make sure Jack was still not there. Sam realized that Jack was taking an awfully long time and while she knew there could by another explanation, she chose to believe he was hiding. Daniel shrugged at himself and kept talking. "I don't believe in ghosts. I don't believe in an afterlife. It's a nice thought to hold onto, that you'll go on forever and still have your memories and feelings. When I was little, after my parents died, I kept thinking that they were sitting up on clouds watching me. I used to wave at them when I thought no one was looking." Sam smiled at the picture of innocence Daniel's recollection brought to mind as opposed to her own childhood's ice-cold conviction that her mother was gone and didn't give a shit about her anymore. "But it's just a nice thought. Nothing more." Daniel stared at the floor, looking like he wanted someone to disagree.

Teal'c looked at Sam again. "I concur. There are no spirits."

"Bullshit!" Sam was so pissed off she didn't care at that moment if that was the one message that made it back from beyond the grave.

Daniel's head jerked up. "Sam?"

Teal'c was carefully staring straight ahead, which Sam knew he did whenever he was trying to deny something was happening. Sam knew he'd heard her too.

But her attention was caught by Jack, who'd appeared the doorway of the bathroom just that moment. His mouth was hanging open, his face pale, his red rimmed eyes revealing that she'd been right about him hiding out in the bathroom to cry. She nearly jumped for joy. Until she noticed his eyes were on Daniel and he was a great deal more horrified than she would have expected him to be at seeing her.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't see you."

Jack's face was cold as he fixed his stare on Daniel's eyes, startling them all with his as of late unused voice. "Sam is dead, Daniel."

Teal'c took Jack's arm, steering him away from his confrontation with Daniel. "There should be no pain in hearing the name of your friend, O'Neill." Sam noticed Teal'c's eyes slide in her direction. "I do not believe she would choose to be forgotten; however, if hearing her name causes you to suffer, we shall continue to avoid its use."

Because of her victory, or near victory, Sam wanted to continue trying. It seemed that Daniel and Teal'c were getting more receptive to her attempts to communicate and she was sure they would be able to convince Jack once they saw the light, or the ghost as the case was. But just seeing the floor her lab was on reduced him to tears and hearing her name had left him so shaken that she didn't dare draw attention to herself. She was pretty sure that even seeing her right then would be devastating for him.

Instead, she hung back, watching them as they found a table in the corner, where the four of them had never sat together. She saw Teal'c and Daniel take turns sitting with Jack while the other went to get food so that he wouldn't be alone. She noticed that Jack didn't touch the plate Daniel brought him, not even to play with it or pretend he was eating it. And mostly, she stood there, hating the way everyone was staring at or whispering about the group who had once been so popular. Everyone had liked and respected them when they were amazing and pulled a rabbit out of the hat time and time again, but apparently, that respect was forever sullied by the simple fact that they were really human and mortal and when it turned out that they really didn't always come out unscathed.

The hatred built while she watched them eat, especially when she saw they were serving pie and that Jack wouldn't even eat that. She couldn't take it anymore and approached the service line, furiously reaching out and hurling dishes off the counter. The shattering glass and terrified faces should have brought her to her senses, but she was having a colossal temper tantrum, which she'd never had in her life, and she felt perfectly justified as she continued to throw and hit and smash and break everything she came in contact with. She had to release it, to let out the frustration and the tension and the stress that had been building her entire life. She was angry, damn it, that she'd spent her entire life and especially the last few years following the rules and waiting for something she was supposed to get and had it snatched away by mistake.

By the time she was done, the room was trashed. Everyone had run out, screaming and clawing one another to get through the door first. Everyone, except them. Teal'c and Daniel were looking at one another, forks frozen mid-way to their mouths. Jack was staring, which appeared to be his full time job, completely unaware that Samantha Carter had thrown a holy-living fit behind him.

She approached them, snatching the fork out of Daniel's hand and flinging it down on his plate, sending food flying up onto his glasses. "Ignore that, Danny!"

Daniel reached up, removing his glasses and wiping at them with a napkin. He looked at Teal'c. "I'm not really very hungry today."

Teal'c shot his most disapproving glare at Sam. "I am also no longer hungry."

They stood up, Teal'c bringing a reluctant Jack with him, and headed for the door.

Sam picked up Jack's untouched plate of food and threw it at them, quite happy when it connected with the door right in front of them. "Assholes!"

And still, they continued on their way, not even giving her the satisfaction of looking her way.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Sam was so irritated that she had every intention of giving chase and haunting the shit out of her friends until they admitted they could see her. Hell, she knew half the base would admit to seeing her once the general caught wind of the mess she'd made of the mess. She shrugged to herself and decided that was why they called it the mess in the first place.

But before she could take a step after them, she felt herself drifting. The room faded away, immediately being replaced by the horrid beige-ness of the not-DMV. At least she wasn't at the back of a long line. She was right at the counter, facing a tiny little man. His petite height only served to draw more attention to his receding hairline. The thick mustache he sported was ridiculous. Sam wanted to tell him he'd be better off trimming the mustache and transplanting it to his head, but she remembered that the people behind the counter at the DMV had all the power and wisely held her tongue.

Ken, as his nametag told her, glanced at her with a frown as he looked at something on his computer. "You're trying haunting, Miss Carter?"

Sam nodded. She was extremely unhappy with it for the moment, but she wasn't about to admit it, lest it get back to Marge.

He turned away from the computer. "And how is that going for you?"

Sam looked at the tomato sauce staining her hands from the plates of spaghetti she'd tossed around at the base and stuffed her hands into her pockets. "It's going well." She was afraid to complain for fear they wouldn't let her haunt anymore - especially if they caught wind of her redecorating the mess. As irritating as it was to be ignored by her friends, it was still a step above the ever-loving lines in heaven.

"Good for you." Ken smiled a smile that told Sam he knew exactly how well the haunting was going despite her lie. His voice was just as nasal as Marge's, which was more discomforting since he was a man. Thinking of how very unpleasant his voice was made her think about how very pleasant Jack's voice was and so, rather than answer, Sam simply stared at the space just above Ken's left shoulder with a dumb smile on her face. Ken was used to unhappy people and therefore, it took him quite a long time to regroup when he faced Sam's apparent happiness. "Miss Carter, I have here an invitation to join the very exclusive soul mate line." He handed over a small index card. "Now, you need to hold onto that card because you may be asked for it at any time while you're occupying space in that line."

"If I'm a disembodied soul, am I really occupying space anywhere?" If she had to annoy her way through to Daniel, she thought she should start practicing being horribly annoying.

Again, Sam's behavior threw him and he blinked at her while his brain rebooted. "You may join the line at any time."

"Will my place in line affect the length of time my soul mate lives?" Sam thought it would be useful to know. She didn't want to be responsible for Jack's death because she got in line early or something and she'd always been told that not knowing was no excuse.

"Of course not. Deaths are predetermined when a soul enters a body, unless there's a mistake." Ken seemed rather uncomfortable, probably because he was talking to someone who'd been the unfortunate victim of such a mistake.

Sam nodded, still bitter about the wrong form thing that had caused her predicament. She wanted to raise hell over it, but she knew that would only result in her wasting more time that she could be spending getting through to her boys. "Mistakes which I understand are extremely rare."

Ken swallowed hard. "The line is right over there."

"If I don't get in line, will it change anything at all?" She didn't want to lose eternity with Jack for a stupid reason anymore than she wanted eternity with Jack to start any earlier than necessary. Not that she didn't want to be with him - no, it was that she didn't want him to die, not even if she was already dead.

"No, but did I mention that it's a very exclusive line?"

"Can I go back to haunting now?"

Ken's eyes widened. "You want to go back?"

Sam nodded. "As long as it won't affect my reunion with Jack when the appropriate time comes, then yes, I absolutely want to go back."

Ken's eyes widened a little further. "You want to go back?"

Sam nodded again. "Yes. But only if I still get forever with Jack."

Ken nodded slowly. "Yes, of course, even case workers can't change soul mate status. Once you've got one, you've got one forever."

Sam turned the index card invitation over in her hand. "So if that's the case, it doesn't really matter if I have my invitation, now does it?"

Ken was discombobulated. "Well, no, not really. But you'll need it if you want to stand in line."

"So, the haunting?"

"You really like it?"

Sam smiled. "I'm on a mission here, Ken." She didn't feel the need to point out that she saw no use in standing there waiting for Jack to die when she could spend the rest of his life with him, provided, of course, she got him to see her.

Ken shrugged, seeming rather relieved to be getting rid of her. "Whatever you say, Miss."

And then she was back at the SGC. She didn't know how much time had passed since her little tantrum. She didn't know where anyone was. She closed her eyes and thought of Daniel. As much as Teal'c truly seemed to be more aware of her, Sam knew Daniel would be the first of the two to crack.

When she opened her eyes, she was in the briefing room. General Hammond sat at the head of the table, his lips set in a straight, thin, unhappy line. Sam shuttered at the thought of him mad and was actually glad for the moment that she was already dead if only because that meant he couldn't kill her. She knew it was probably in her head, but she decided he also looked a little sad, and she decided it was because he missed her.

Jack was there too, still acting like holding up his head required more energy than he possessed. His eyes kept slipping closed. He seemed to need the sleep, as exhausted and emaciated as he was looking. Sam thought his stupor might make him a little more susceptible to her presence and she moved next to him. Kneeling down, she gently touched his arm. He moved away, but she couldn't be sure it had anything to do with her touch, since he appeared to have nodded off to sleep. She did, however, notice the overpowering stench of alcohol emanating from him. Recoiling, she looked around in horror. Something had to be very wrong for Jack to be sleeping through a meeting, tanked, and have no one care.

The general's unhappy glare shifted to Jack and the older man only shook his head almost imperceptibly. Hammond wasn't that far away from him; there was no way he had missed Jack's intoxication. The general turned his attention back to Daniel, who had been talking since before Sam got there.

Sam looked at Teal'c who was sitting on Jack's other side. "Teal'c, what the hell is going on? Do something!"

Teal'c turned his eyes to the paper in front of him.

"Teal'c! Facing a court martial will not help Jack out any."

Teal'c glared at her and reached out reluctantly, tapping Jack's chair.

"Carter?" Jack's eyes opened a second after his mouth and he turned a little in his chair to look around. Sam was elated, until his eyes passed right through her. He swallowed hard and his face immediately shifted back to the scowl he'd been wearing since she'd died. He winced and dropped his face into his hands. "Sorry. I thought she was here for a moment."

Sam glared at Teal'c. "You know, if you admitted that you see me and hear me, it might go a long way toward getting Jack to see me and hear me which would relieve you of babysitting duty."

Teal'c didn't respond, but Sam saw him face Daniel Jackson with a raised eyebrow. She could see the silent challenge pass between them. Daniel paused in his speech for a moment, but he didn't break. Teal'c turned his chair a bit to the right, keeping Sam out of his line of sight.

"Colonel O'Neill, I do expect you to be sober when you return from leave, is that clear?" General Hammond's stern words reassured Sam because it meant that they were just trying to keep an eye on Jack, probably to keep him from being alone, probably because they were all afraid of what he might do alone. At least he wasn't drunk at work. Sam shook her head. Technically, he was drunk at work, he just wasn't working. Somehow, it didn't really seem better anymore so she decided not to think about it.

Jack looked up after a moment and winced. "What?"

Unlike the last time she'd seen him, at least Jack was responding. Sort of. Again, she wasn't sure being drunk and acknowledging his CO was better than being sober and not acknowledging anything. Sam sighed and walked around to Daniel's side. "Daniel, you can't possibly continue this lecture with me talking."

Daniel's words tumbled over each other for a second and he stopped, taking a drink of water mid-sentence as he pretended he'd meant to take a break right then. He cleared his throat and started the sentence again. He was holding up a paper and demonstrating something, pointing with his pen. Sam took a deep breath, thought about her case worker's stupidity, and flicked at the paper with her finger just when the rage filled her. The paper flopped forward in Daniel's hand.

Unperturbed, he straightened it back out and started anew. Sam chuckled and did it again, flicking at his pen instead. The pen flipped right out of his hand and Daniel jumped slightly in shock. If the general noticed, he didn't say anything. Teal'c was no longer looking at Daniel, instead he stared at his hands folded on the table in front of him. Jack shifted around in his chair, completely oblivious to everything since he'd closed his eyes once again.

Daniel sighed and bent down to retrieve his pen. When he stood up, Sam could see from the set of his jaw that he was not giving in just yet. He'd been locked up in the psych ward before, Sam recalled, and she was pretty sure that not wanting to repeat that event was his motivation for steadfastly ignoring her. But Sam was never one to give up and Daniel had always been one to get flustered, so she knew he would be an easy mark. Especially in such a public setting.

Daniel's fingers were tight on the pen and he continued without the aid of the paper. Sam wasn't deterred. She moved behind him, leaning over his shoulder until her lips were right by his ear. He was still talking and she wasn't sure he was aware of her at that moment.

"Daniel!"

"Augh!"

Sam giggled as Daniel jumped straight up in the air. Teal'c turned to look, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face. General Hammond looked concerned and slightly guilty, making Sam think he hadn't really been listening until Daniel screamed. Jack jerked awake again, his eyes searching the room wildly. He looked disappointed again and rested back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Daniel cleared his throat and shuffled the papers he wasn't looking at, trying to get a grip on himself. Sam put her hand on the papers, watching with pleasure when Daniel stopped moving them and instead stared at where her hand was resting.

"Daniel, it will be so much easier on all of us if you accept that I'm here and start working with Teal'c to get Jack to see me." She watched as Daniel's eyes darted to Teal'c. The men regarded each other warily, but again, neither said anything. "He can see me too, Daniel. And hear me. It's not just you."

Daniel's eyes squeezed closed and she heard him whisper so softly she could barely make out the words. "Sam is not really here. Whatever this is, it's not Sam."

Sam felt guilty when she realized what he was thinking. He wasn't ignoring her. He just didn't think it was her. She'd been going about getting his attention in a very un-Sam-like manner. She'd been pushy and demanding and arrogant without even realizing it, which very easily convinced Daniel that if he was seeing a spirit, it wasn't Samantha Carter. Sam had always been quiet and reserved and well-behaved. Sam moved her hand off the papers and stood back, seeing the relief on Daniel's face when he opened his eyes to see nothing but his papers.

Sam flopped down in the chair across from Jack, wondering what else she could do. If she played nice and followed the rules to convince Daniel that it was really her, she'd never get anywhere. And if she really followed the rules, she'd be standing in that great motor vehicle line in the sky waiting for Jack to die. "The hell with that!"

She jumped up, her sudden movement sending the chair flying out from the table. She watched as Daniel pretended not to see it. She watched as Teal'c pretended not to see it. She watched as Hammond obviously noticed it, observed the faces of Daniel and Teal'c, and promptly pretended he hadn't seen it either.

She approached Daniel and stared him down. "Good girls go to heaven, Daniel. Bad girls get to stay with Jack."

Daniel's eyes widened a bit as he sat down in his chair. "General, I'm not feeling so good."

Teal'c chimed in, eager to escape the situation. "Perhaps we should reschedule this meeting. I too am feeling unwell."

The general looked at Teal'c incredulously. "Teal'c, you don't have to cover for him. Dr. Jackson, I want you to report to the infirmary right now and submit yourself for a drug screening."

Sam started laughing.

Daniel wasn't amused. "I'm feeling much better now, sir."

Teal'c's shoulders slumped. "I am not."

Sam could fairly see Daniel's resolve cracking. She cleared her throat and started to sing. "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall." Sam paused for a moment and glanced at Jack. "Unless of course Jack got there first. Then there wouldn't be any beer left, would there?" She grinned and went back to her song. "Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-eight bottles of beer, take one down, pass-"

"Stop!" Daniel pressed his hands over his ears. "Stop it! Just leave me alone!"

Sam kept right on going, noting that her off-key, tone-deaf voice would finally serve her well since Teal'c appeared to be having some sort of seizure in his chair.

But rather than the general suddenly realizing that she was there, he instead continued with his appraisal that Daniel was taking hallucinogens. He called for security, demanding that they take Daniel to the infirmary and secure him there.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Before Sam could decide what to do next, the alarms went off, redirecting everyone's attention from her antics. Forgetting that she wasn't real, she fell in step with Hammond and Teal'c as they ran for the control room. Jack was a bit behind them, having to contend with being half asleep and drunk. Sergeant Harriman was wearing his panic face, which Carter had long since realized was the same as his calm face except that he turned his head a lot more.

"What's wrong, sergeant?" The words left her mouth before she remembered that whole disembodied business.

"What's the problem, sergeant?" The general's words were a beat behind hers.

Walter, however, didn't reply. He simply sat in his chair, his panic face gone. It had been replaced by his immobilized with fear face as evidenced by the wide-eyed slack-jawed stare.

"Sergeant, I asked you a question!" Hammond was never a mean guy, but he was in charge and he liked to be respected. Any time he felt he was being ignored, as was the case with Walter and his silence, the general got angry quickly.

Sam waited for Walter to answer, wondering if Walter was about to get shipped off for a drug test too. Teal'c stepped forward, placing his hand on Walter's shoulder. "It is best if you respond to the general as though you saw nothing."

"Ha! So you admit you can see me!" Sam wanted to jump up and down.

Walter just kept staring. "Wha-"

Sam's glee over Teal'c's admission was short lived. She looked at Walter, noticing he was staring right at her. "You can see me, can't you, sergeant?"

Walter nodded once.

Teal'c stepped in front of her. "Sergeant Harriman, I strongly advise that you go about your business in a normal manner."

The general's voice rose above all the noise in the room. "What the hell is going on here?"

A frightened, unsure Walter began detailing the problem to them in a shaky voice. Sam knew immediately how to fix it, but everyone else waited for Hammond, who issued the order to bring as many of the scientists to the control room as could be found because surely someone on earth could fix it.

Sam walked around to the other side of Walter's chair and squatted down. "Do you want everyone to think you're really smart and can fix things?"

Walter's wide eyes darted between Sam and Teal'c. Teal'c shook his head to indicate that Walter should ignore her. But Walter's head bobbed once.

"Ok, here's what you need to do-" She started issuing instructions, talking slow enough that Walter could follow her, but fast enough that everyone in the room would take note that he wasn't simply trying random things. Within two minutes, the alarms had stopped, the gate was restored to working order, and the room had fallen deathly silent. "Ok, Walter, now listen to me. Tell the general that Daniel is not on drugs." Sam watched as Walter's expression grew weary, but he stood up and did as she said.

The general looked a little surprised that Walter had known about the drug test, but he was too busy being shocked over the fact that Walter had fixed the gate to really understand.

"Now, Walter, I need you to tell him how you fixed the gate."

"Major Carter, I thought you were going to let everyone think I was really smart!" He looked crushed, but it didn't matter to Sam. He'd just addressed her, out loud, in a room full of witnesses.

She expected Teal'c to admit that he too could see her because Walter had just embarrassed himself and she'd always thought Teal'c was a stand-up guy. She expected the general to come to the obvious conclusion that her ghost had told Walter how to fix the computer. She expected that Jack would spontaneously sober up and realize she was there.

Instead, she saw the general order up security once again to transport a very unhappy Sergeant Harriman to the infirmary for a drug test.

Teal'c shook his head at Walter as he was dragged away. "I advised you to be silent."

Having made a complete mess of her attempts to reach out, Sam closed her eyes and sighed. General Hammond was out of patience and Sam didn't want to make things any worse than she already had. She took a deep breath and decided to try aiming for a different time. She'd been skipping time without trying, but she figured there was some way to control it. Just in case, she aimed for a very small window of time.

She opened her eyes to find the hub-bub had died down. The control room was quiet, except for the regular noise of people going about their normal work. Walter was at the desk again, typing away on his keyboard. Sam quietly took the seat beside him.

"Sergeant, don't get upset."

Walter's frightened eyes darted toward her, but immediately returned to his computer screen.

"Look, Walter, I was always nice to you, wasn't I?"

Walter looked around, checking to be sure no one was looking at him and then he nodded once.

"Teal'c is refusing to admit I'm here, I think because he's afraid he'll look nuts and Daniel seems to think he's being haunted by a demon or something, but I just want to talk to someone."

Walter continued to work, but Sam noticed he'd brought up the word processing program on the computer. He glanced at her, inclining his head toward the screen, and typed. _What do you want?_

Sam smiled, amazed that someone was finally going to talk. "I'm trying to get through to Daniel and Teal'c because Colonel O'Neill trusts them. So I'm going to need you to help me get through to them."

_Is it really you?_

"If it wasn't, would I admit it?"

Walter grinned. _I'd love to help you, but I don't think Colonel O'Neill will trust me._ He winced and then continued to type. _He's taking this very badly. Rumor has it he claims he killed you._

"Walter, you know the plane I was in crashed, right?"

Walter shrugged. _Rumor has it that's a cover story to hide your grisly murder that Colonel O'Neill confessed to._

Sam's eyes widened as she stared at the words. Well, if Jack was telling people he'd killed her, it certainly explained the odd looks the group had gotten in the mess. "No, Walter, he didn't kill me. It was all a big mistake."

_He's still taking this very badly, ma'am._

"Which is why I need to get someone to help me."

_Why don't you just talk to him yourself?_

"Apparently the deal is that you have to believe in ghosts to be able to see ghosts, and although I'm quite frankly annoyed that there are such things as ghosts, the colonel is actually less likely to believe I'm here than I would have been."

_I had to get a drug test this morning. And a CT scan. And an MRI._

Sam patted him on the shoulder. "Believe me, I'd rather be alive and well and able to convey my own messages."

_My psych consult is tomorrow._

Sam winced. "Been there, passed that. Just tell them what they want to hear."

_They probably don't want to hear that I'm having a conversation with a dead woman, ma'am._

"Walter, how long has is been since I died?"

_You don't know?_

"Time doesn't seem to be quite the same to me. As far as I can tell, it should only have been a day or two, but I know it has to be more than that."

_Three weeks._

"Wow." She hadn't expected that. She hated that three weeks had already gone by without being able to reach Jack. And she suspected that with Jack, every minute that passed made him feel a little more hopeless. "How bad, Walter?"

_Ma'am?_

Sam chuckled. "I'm dead, you hardly have to worry about ranks, Walter."

_Yes, ma'am._

"You said Jack was taking this badly. How bad?"

The corners of Walters mouth turned up in a smile. _Jack, ma'am?_

"Well, if you don't have to worry about rank, I shouldn't either." Even as she said the words, she could feel herself blushing.

_Don't worry. Who am I going to tell? _Walter switched the font to a tiny size that Sam could hardly read. _He wouldn't talk to anyone at all for a couple weeks._ He decreased the font even more so that Sam had to lean in to see the words. _He's been drinking. _Walter gave her a second to read it and then deleted the whole section. _The general put him on leave, but he doesn't have the heart to send him home._

"Walter, can you talk to Daniel for me? Tell him that I'm really here, that it's me, that I'm trying to get through to Jack."

_When we were in the infirmary this morning, Daniel told me not to worry about it because he could see you too. He doesn't want to say anything because he's afraid he'll look like an ass._

"Why didn't you just tell me that?" Sam jumped to her feet, annoyed that she was wasting precious time when she could have simply gone directly to Daniel, probably with better results once there was a witness to the fact that he could see her.

_Because I like talking to you._

Sam stared at the screen, blinking stupidly at the words and the meaning she feared lay behind them.

_I always thought you were pretty, ma'am._

Sam rolled her eyes. "You are so not Jack, Walter."

Walter closed the program and stared resolutely forward. Sam realized a moment late that she probably shouldn't have burned that bridge, since Walter was the only one who was willing to interact with her. But the last thing she needed was a silly living man with a crush on her dead self getting in the way of her reaching out to the love of her life. She patted him on the shoulder.

"Is Daniel still here?"

Walter nodded once.

"Is he in his office?"

Walter sighed heavily, letting Sam know he wanted her to believe that he was very busy, but she leaned down and smiled at him, and he nodded once.

"Thanks, Walter." Sam let herself think of Daniel, hoping her mental note that she not miss any time would be enough to control it.


	8. Chapter 7

_AN: I realize there is some angst inherent in this story, but since I only get two tags, I figure it's more comedy (at least according to me and my irrevernt humor) than angst, so that's why I went with the comedy. With that said, there's some more angst here too, but I don't think I can tell the story I want to tell without it._

Chapter Seven

In a flash, she was there, standing in the doorway of his office. She stood where she was, simply watching him for a moment. She could see from the way he moved, from the way he poured over the books in front of him, from the way he hesitated the slightest bit in his note-taking, that he was trying very hard to pretend like everything was normal when it wasn't. She knew he missed her, the real her, the regular her, the same way she had missed him when he'd been dead. She missed the breakfast they used to share almost every morning - it was their time to talk and be their scientific selves without having to explain why they were the way they were. It was their time to be friends. Sam wanted to ruffle his hair, knowing he'd undergone the same work up at Walter. She felt considerably guiltier for it. She'd been taunting the crap out of him.

He looked up for a moment, adjusting his glasses. His glance fell on her and he smiled. But a moment later his smile faltered and he looked devastated. He turned back to his book.

Sam opened her mouth to speak, thinking she should say something meaningful and profound. Nothing came to mind.

"I know you're there, Sam."

"So you're admitting it now?"

He looked up and smiled, shrugging. "At first I thought I was nuts. I thought it was some trick that my mind was playing on me." He sat back in his chair, giving her his full attention. "And then I thought you were some kind of evil spirit coming to possess us or something, especially after you trashed the mess that day."

Sam sat down on a stool. "I was a little upset."

"You should look into anger management classes because I'm pretty sure General Hammond will flip his lid if he has to replace all the plates again."

"Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to be screaming for attention and have no one acknowledge you?"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, I do. When Ba'al had Jack prisoner, it was like talking to a wall. A stubborn, infuriating wall."

Sam smiled, thinking of how much she wanted to hug that stubborn infuriating wall. "At least you got his attention."

"I'm sure you will too." Daniel grinned. "He always did seem to notice you, if you catch my drift."

Sam rolled her eyes, appreciating the good-natured teasing in a way she never had before. "There's a very simple concept at work here, Daniel. Only people who believe in ghosts can see ghosts."

"I don't believe in ghosts."

"You're talking to one."

Daniel stood up, crossing in front of her and reaching out. His hand was tentative as it passed over hers, lowering a tiny bit at a time until it finally came in contact. "You seem pretty real to me now."

"So anyway, Jack doesn't believe in ghosts."

Daniel shrugged and went back to his desk, stirring the cup of coffee Sam knew was long cold. "Jack doesn't believe in sobriety at the moment either. I'm sure he'll change his mind eventually."

"Or his liver will change his mind."

Daniel looked up, a playful smile on his face. "So it's Jack now, is it?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "What's he going to do? Court martial me?" Sam shifted around on her stool, a hundred questions vying to be asked first. "Why is it that you're willing to admit you see me now?"

"Walter certainly can't fix the computer on his own. So when Teal'c came to visit me in the infirmary while I was waiting for my drug test and told me Walter had fixed the computer on his own, I knew you were real."

"I'm sorry about making you look crazy."

He grinned. "I'm sorry for ignoring you. Friends?"

She nodded. As much as she wanted to talk to Daniel and reassure him, she was too concerned about Jack to relax. "How's he doing?" She didn't need to say his name. She knew the seriousness of her expression and the tone of her voice would tell Daniel she wasn't talking about Walter or Teal'c anymore. There wasn't anyone else Sam would come back from the grave for.

"You're not talking about your dad, are you?" Daniel sighed. "I'm not going to lie, Sam. He's a mess."

Even though she already knew it, she didn't want to hear it. It hurt.

"He was the first one to realize what happened, you know. It wasn't even like someone broke the news to him gently." Daniel looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "He saw the picture of the wreckage in the newspaper, Sam. He told me he'd put you on that plane, that he'd sent you home because you were fighting. And then he didn't say anything else for a week."

Sam nodded, waiting for her chin to stop trembling before she could talk. "I saw him at the funeral."

"He hadn't started drinking then." He glanced up, checking to see if it was ok to continue. "He's been drunk every waking hour of the last two weeks. I don't even think he's sleeping. He's just drinking and passing out."

Wiping at the tears in her eyes, Sam knew she needed to hear the rest. She nodded at Daniel to encourage him.

"He's blaming himself, Sam. You know how he is. He thinks it was all his fault. Pretty much all anyone can get out of him is either a curt restatement of the fact that you're dead or a drunken declaration that you're dead because he killed you."

Sam shook her head. "He didn't kill me."

"I know that. Teal'c knows that. The rumor mill, however, well, that's a different story."

"Yeah, Walter mentioned that."

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. "So what do you need my help with?"

"I need you to convince Jack that I'm here so I can talk to him."

Daniel nodded. "Unfinished business before you can cross over or something?"

Sam frowned and shook her head. "More like nothing better to do. I'm bored. I left a message for God, but apparently he's a very busy deity."

"You mean there really is one all-powerful, all-knowing God?"

Sam shrugged. "From what I hear. But keep in mind that I've yet to see the proof. For all I know he's like L. Ron Hubbard."

"How so?" Daniel was intrigued by the idea of a final, definitive answer to the question of religion.

"Like they may just be keeping an office for someone who is never coming back."

"It would be awfully disappointing to find out there really was a god only to find out he's gone."

Sam nodded. "Maybe we should have been a little gentler in undermining all those worlds' religious beliefs, huh?"

"But they were worshipping mean gods. The real one isn't mean, is he?"

"Like I said, I haven't met him, but as far as I can tell, he's more unreasonable than mean."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm dead, Daniel."

Daniel grinned. "And you figure you deserved to live, right?"

"I'm dead because there was a mistake where my case worker signed the wrong form."

"You're kidding."

"No, I was supposed to live. Sandra Carter was supposed to die. But someone made a mistake and apparently, the bureaucrats can't fix their mistake because I'm still dead."

Daniel shook his head, silent empathy written all over his face. "Red tape will be the death of us all."

"No, just the death of me."

"So Jack needs to know it wasn't his fault and then you can move on with eternity or whatever?"

"Wrong again, Danny. I'm bored. And I have to wait until Jack dies before we can do anything, so if you can convince him that I'm here, then I can hang around with you guys and I won't be bored anymore. It'll be like I'm still alive, which I am in a really odd way."

"Why do you have to wait for Jack?"

Sam blushed, pulling exclusive invitation out of her pocket. "Because we're soul mates."

Daniel grinned, the urge to tease her affectionately shining in his eyes. "Soul mates?"

Sam blushed deeper. "Look, I'm still kind of hoping this is a really strange dream."

"When you were here before, when you had your little episode in the mess, I tried talking to him. I tried to tell him that some part of you was still around, but he wouldn't listen."

"He's stubborn, Daniel. You can convince him. I know you can."

"I think that's what touched off the drinking, Sam. I think he hurt too much to listen. He can't even stand to hear your name."

"You accept that I'm here, right? You know that."

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, or I'm stark raving mad, but either way, I'm fine with it." He looked sheepish as a red tinge crept into his cheeks. "I miss you."

"I'm the same me as always. You don't have to miss me." Sam had the idea that once he truly believed she was there, which he appeared to, it would change things dramatically. She moved next to him, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it. Unlike when she'd held Teal'c's hand at her funeral, Sam felt Daniel's hand close around hers. "I'm right here."

He smiled, lifting their joined hands as if to convince himself that it was real. "Yes, you are."

"Now you just have to convince Jack that I'm here and then he'll be fine and I'll be here and we'll all be ok."

"Maybe you should get Teal'c to try."

"Daniel, you can convince Jack of anything."

"No, you can convince Jack of anything."

"Then tell him what I'd tell him."

"I don't think it's so much what you tell him as it is-" Daniel looked around for a way to escape, but smartly realized there was likely no way to hide from a ghost.

"As it is what?" Sam had a feeling she wasn't going to like where the conversation was heading.

"I'm not a hot blonde, Sam, and I really think that is a distinct advantage in getting Jack to listen to anything."

She was mortified, but she didn't bother to deny it since she'd always suspected as much. "Then tell him if he believes you then he can see a hot blonde."

Daniel frowned. "I'm pretty sure Jack would object to me saying that about you."

"Then come up with something better." Sam wasn't sure what she thought about the idea that Daniel identified her as hot, but she knew he was right about Jack not liking it.

"What would you say? Because I know you would pretend your looks had nothing to do with it."

"Ask him if he thinks people can come back from the dead."

"And when he says it's impossible?"

"Ask him when that's ever stopped me from doing anything."

"I don't know, Sam."

"Come on, Daniel." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't make me torture your ass for all of eternity."

Daniel looked at her and smiled. "I'm so glad you're really here there's no way you could torture me."

Sam grinned. "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall-"

Daniel slapped his hands over his ears. "Ok, stop, I'll talk to him."

"To whom are you speaking, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c's face appeared in the doorway.

Daniel was scared as he checked with Sam. She nodded. "I'm talking to Sam."

"Major Carter is dead. She is no longer with us."

Sam jabbed her finger in Daniel's side. "Don't flake out on me now."

Daniel reached down and snagged Sam's hand, holding it up for Teal'c to see. "Oh yes she is."

Teal'c was silent for a moment until a grin slowly spread across his face. "Indeed she is. Her spirit is most stubborn."


	9. Chapter 8

_AN: Ok, this is a very long part (and an impossible scene to split up into parts, I might add!) so you're getting what would normally equate to two parts in one! Anyway, I have to warn you, there is some harsh language in here, but it goes with the angst. Keep the reviews coming! They really make a writer's day._

Chapter Eight

Daniel narrowed his eyes at Teal'c. "You mean to tell me that you can see her?"

"Indeed." Teal'c nodded and Sam was fairly certain he was hiding a smirk behind his typically stoic face. "Major Carter has visited us on several occasions."

"Why didn't you say something? I thought I was going crazy."

"O'Neill does not respond favorably to the mention of Major Carter's name. I thought it unwise to mention the apparition in his presence. Perhaps if Major Carter did not always appear while I was in the company of O'Neill, I would have made mention of her spiritual existence."

The mention of his name drew Sam's attention to the fact that Jack wasn't there for the first time in her visits. "Where is Jack?"

Teal'c looked at her, his eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Are you now in the habit of referring to O'Neill by his first name rather than his rank, Major Carter?"

Sam rolled her eyes as Daniel grinned. It was one thing if Daniel teased her. It was just wrong for Teal'c to do the same. "I'm dead. I'm not in the Air Force any more. I don't have to call him Colonel and you don't have to call me Major." Despite her firm belief in her statement, Sam realized her cheeks were burning red and the boys were grinning at one another. "Don't change the subject. Where the hell is Colonel O'Neill?"

"I understood that you would no longer be addressing O'Neill by his rank, Major Carter." Teal'c's face returned to its usual passive indifference, but Sam was sure he was doing it on purpose. "You need not be embarrassed by your romantic attachment to O'Neill as he is no longer your superior."

Infuriated and mortified, she turned to Daniel. "Let's go. You promised." She was so embarrassed she could die, except, well, she was already dead.

"All right, I'll go." Daniel was dragging his feet at he looked at Teal'c. "Where is he?"

"O'Neill has gone home to search for alcoholic beverages. He grew quite displeased that the cafeteria staff did not take his suggestions regarding a miniature refrigerator for storing liquor."

"You let him drive in his condition?" Sam looked at Daniel, wondering if it was possible to have a heart attack when she was dead. Sam wanted to strangle Teal'c, but still she couldn't let his wording slide without correction. "And it's a mini-bar, Teal'c."

"O'Neill was far too intoxicated to successfully operate a vehicle. I arranged a ride for him with a low-ranking airman who was too intimidated by my presence to refuse."

Daniel shook his head in a disappointed fashion. "You were supposed to watch him."

"It is rather unpleasant to watch a friend's mental and physical health degenerate. Perhaps you are better equipped to perform such a task, Daniel Jackson."

Sam stepped in front of Teal'c, wagging her finger at him in a gesture that would have made her first grade teacher proud. "I expected better from you, Teal'c."

If he noticed the correction, Teal'c gave no indication. "Major Carter, I believe it is up to you to intercede unless you would prefer O'Neill to join you prematurely."

Sam shrugged at Daniel. "I'll meet you there."

Sam got to Jack's first, of course, since she merely had to think about him to arrive there. She didn't wait for Daniel, mostly because she hadn't thought about materializing on the porch, but also because she was kind of hoping Jack would simply notice her and spare them the trouble of needing an intermediary.

She found herself in his living room, standing in front of the couch. Jack was passed out in the arm chair with a bottle of whiskey in his lap. Sam was pretty sure the tumbler of ice on the coffee table had been thoughtfully provided by the airman who'd had the unfortunate job of being bullied into taking Jack home, although she couldn't really rule out the idea that Jack had ordered the poor man into getting it for him.

Sam squatted down next to him, gently taking the bottle from his grasp. Some part of her marveled at the idea she could do it so easily, but the rest of her knew it was due to the emotional overload she felt at being so very close and so very far away from him.

He stirred slightly as she pulled the bottle away and his eyes fluttered open for a second. "Carter?"

She smiled, actually thankful for the inebriation that appeared to be helping her cause. "Yeah, it's me."

He shifted again, his head falling hard against the uncushioned edge of the chair. His eyes popped open completely, the adrenaline rush of pain waking him. "Damn it." His hand flew to his head and rubbed the spot. He looked around, obviously no longer aware of her presence. She saw the momentary hope flash in his eyes, his silent prayer that she really was there. She saw the devastation when his eyes passed over her repeatedly, seeing nothing. His eyes were filling with tears as he reached for the bottle, utterly confused when it wasn't in his lap. He noticed it on the table and reached for it with a growl, not even noticing when she tried to keep it from him.

Her attempt was only half-hearted though, because she realized that he really couldn't bear to face life without her sober.

It was a startling revelation. She fell back, landing on her back end with a rather indelicate noise that made Sam happy, momentarily, that Jack couldn't see or hear her. She wasn't a big fan of embarrassing herself. She stayed where she was on the floor, contemplating what she was seeing.

She loved Jack; she knew that. She'd known it for a very long time. She knew he loved her on some level, that he was attracted to her on all the others. She knew he blamed himself for her death and that explained some of why he couldn't face reality. But she knew there was so much more to it than she had ever realized. She saw the pain and loss and desperation in his eyes. He couldn't stand to live without her. And it chilled her to the bone to realize that he had no intention of trying.

He took a long swig right from the bottle and let his eyes glaze over as he stared at nothing. It was no wonder why Daniel didn't want Jack to be left alone. She could feel the despair radiating from him. She was starting to think it was a good thing that he was too drunk to stay conscious for long because she didn't want to think about what he'd do if he stayed awake long enough to remember he owned a gun.

Sam reached out, grabbing the neck of the bottle and trying to wrestle it from his grasp. "Don't do this, Jack."

Jack's attention returned to the bottle, his drunken mind not quite processing that the bottle was moving on its own. He pulled it from her hand, lifting it to his lips and taking another long drink. The bottle was barely back in his lap before his head lolled against the cushion and his consciousness waned.

Sam couldn't stop the tears that rolled down her face. She hated seeing him like that. She hated seeing him hurt. She hated that she couldn't do anything to help him. She leaned forward, sitting up on her knees to reach him. Her fingers grazed the stubble on his cheeks the same as they had at her funeral. Her hand slid against his chin, turning his face toward her. She was rewarded with his eyes opening wide, revealing unguarded fear because he didn't think anyone could see him. He couldn't see her, she knew, but he could feel her touch. She felt him shiver and she hated the situation a little more because she'd never imagined he might consider her touch unwelcome. "Jack, please see me. I'm here. I won't leave you." Her words came unexpectedly as sobs, mixing together as the emotion fought its way free. "I'm right here, Jack."

His breath caught for a moment, his eyes suddenly fixing on her. "Don't cry, Carter. It's ok."

She couldn't help it, couldn't stop the tears, when his hand reached for her face. He was lost, miserable, and practically suicidal and he was trying to comfort her. "I'm not going to leave you, Jack. I promise."

His hand stopped just shy of her cheek. His eyes narrowed. Sam could see the hope fading as his hardened, analytical mind kicked in. "Carter?"

She nodded, trying to encourage him. "I'm here."

His hesitation disappeared as he reached out again. His fingers barely brushed the hair that fell across her forehead. Sam almost cried at the contact. She watched as he decided to go with it, decided to believe the trick he thought his mind was playing on him. He leaned forward, his hand slipping back into her hair, holding her still, for the kiss he was leaning in to give her.

Until a knock at the door distracted him. His hand dropped down, his eyes blind to her once again. His eyes were full of tears as he picked up the bottle and threw so much of it back that he came up sputtering.

"Damn you, Daniel!" She had been the one to demand Daniel's help, but his timing pissed her off.

Jack staggered to the door, managing to fling it open before he collapsed on the floor of the hallway. "What the hell do you want?"

Daniel walked in, closing the door behind himself and glaring at Sam. She knew he was trying to figure out whether or not she'd changed her mind about wanting his help after he undoubtedly heard her shout. He tried to pull Jack to his feet, but Jack pulled his arm away in a completely self-defeating, uncooperative move.

"Come on, Jack, let's get you to the couch so you can pass out with some kind of dignity." Daniel looked at Sam and they both knew his next words were nearly a warning about embarrassing himself in front of her. Daniel reached for Jack again, mentally regrouping, and having a slightly better result. He got Jack halfway to his feet before he lost his grip and Jack fell back down.

Jack looked up, obviously confused as to Daniel's presence. "Daniel?"

"Yeah?"

"How'd you get in here?"

"You let me in."

"Remind me not to do that again." Jack shook his head in a short-lived attempt to clear it. "What are you doing here?"

Daniel sat down next to him. "I came to talk to you."

Jack sat up, looking Daniel squarely in the eye. "Damn it, Daniel, if you're back here with that 'her spirit is everywhere now' bullshit, I'm going to pop you one."

Daniel shot Sam a look that clearly indicated he would hold her solely responsible if he wound up with a black eye. "You can't see straight enough to hit me, Jack."

Jack wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and alcohol wasn't one to make a man think twice. He pulled his arm back and threw the hardest punch he could muster at Daniel. Considering that Daniel was sitting only a few inches away and had very little warning, the punch should have landed right in his face. But Jack was drunk and Daniel was right, so Jack's fist connected with the wall between them without Daniel even having to duck.

"Shit!" Jack cradled his wounded fist in his lap while Daniel got some ice from the kitchen. Jack begrudgingly took it and glared at Daniel. "What do you want, Daniel?"

Daniel tried helping Jack to his feet again and was actually entirely successful in dragging him to the couch. Once he'd carefully chosen a seat out of reach, in case Jack's aim improved, Daniel took a deep breath. "I was wrong about Sam."

Jack, who had been eyeing the whiskey bottle he'd left lying on the chair he'd been in previously, looked up. "Huh?" His attention immediately went back to the bottle. He judged that it was out of reach, but he'd long since stopped trusting his judgment.

Daniel knew exactly what Jack was looking at, but chose to ignore it. "I was wrong about her spirit being everywhere, Jack. You were right, that was bullshit to get you to feel better."

Jack's eyes were diverted from the bottle again. "I know. But it's pointless, Daniel, because her spirit isn't anywhere. She's dead. I killed her. There's no fucking spirit. There's no fucking Sam. There's nothing left, Daniel. Nothing." His eyes seemed to focus in a fleeting moment of sobriety. "Hand me that whiskey, would you?"

Sam hated the cold way Jack said the words. She hated the fact that he believed them. She hated the truth that suddenly seemed crystal clear to her - Jack had gotten involved with the Stargate project right after Charlie's death, which he'd also blamed himself for, in a passive-aggressive attempt at suicide. When that hadn't worked, he'd reluctantly gotten sucked back into the program to save Daniel's life when Hammond was going to nuke Abydos. And then he'd had to stay to save Skaara and help Daniel save Sha're and by the time he'd given up on those goals, he'd been in love with her. And now she was dead and he thought it was his fault and they were right back at square one with a Jack O'Neill who had one foot in the spirit world and was begging for someone to push him the rest of the way. She was looking at the scared, broken, terrifyingly angry man Daniel had told her about, the man she didn't believe really existed because she hadn't ever seen him when he didn't care about something.

"Daniel, please do something!" She was certain that her caseworker's shoddy work was going to start a landslide of inopportune, unfortunate, and untimely deaths. She wasn't about to let Jack's be among them.

Daniel ignored the request for the bottle, but he moved over into the chair it occupied to get Jack's attention focused on him. "Her spirit isn't everywhere, Jack. It's right here." Daniel motioned to Jack's side, to the space beside him where Sam was perched.

Jack held Daniel's eyes for a long time. Sam watched the emotions play across his face in rapid succession - pain, hurt, longing, hope, despair. The emotions he would never let her see were open to Daniel. But Sam understood it because she was the same way. It had always been easier for them to lock up all their feelings, not just the ones bound to get them in trouble. Daniel was safe to open up to. Daniel was good at keeping secrets.

Jack broke the stare and let his head fall back. He looked crushed and Sam knew he assumed Daniel was trying to hurt him for some reason. "If you're not going to hand me the whiskey, then fuck off, Daniel."

"Jack, you have to believe me. She's right here."

Jack lifted his head up, something akin to hate shining in his eyes. "Get out."

Daniel was wrapped up in his argument, just as Sam had expected. "If you believe she's here, you'll see her, Jack. Just like me and Teal'c can."

"If you're going to be here, you at least do something useful like handing me the whiskey."

Angry at his stubbornness, Sam stood up, grabbed the whiskey off the chair and hurled the bottle into the fireplace. The glass shattered where it hit the rock, sending glass and liquor flying. "No more whiskey for you!" She turned back to Jack, expecting that her display would have caught his attention.

And it had. Jack was staring at the fireplace, a snarl curling his lip in a most unattractive fashion. His eyes were as cold as Sam had ever seen them and he turned them on Daniel. "You owe me a bottle of whiskey." Apparently, Jack hadn't noticed Daniel didn't move when the bottle went flying.

Daniel jumped up, pointing at the angry ghost. "It wasn't me! It was Sam!"

Jack somehow sobered enough to pull himself to his feet, reached across the coffee table to grab a hold of Daniel's shirt, and then delivered a punch to the younger man's jaw. At least, he tried. His fist missed Daniel's face by a mile. He had put so much energy into the swing, committed himself so thoroughly to the movement, that missing contact with something solid created an unrecoverable vortex in his ability to balance. Sam thought it was almost comical to watch the way all three of them realized simultaneously that he was going to fall. Jack was too drunk to do anything to save himself. Daniel reacted the way most people would, by leaning back out of the way. Sam knew Jack would come down on the coffee table, resulting in a broken piece of furniture and, more likely than not, at least one broken bone. And at that moment, Sam didn't think Jack could be trusted with the pain killers a broken bone would merit him. And when it came down to it, she just couldn't let him fall.

She was in an awkward position to catch him since she was next to him, but she had to do something. She tried to move as much of herself in front of him as she could, grabbing for his torso and throwing her weight against him. If she had thought about what she was doing for even a second she would have realized that as a ghost she had no weight and that she therefore also had no leverage.

But she didn't think about it. She only reacted. And in so doing, realized the utter truth to the theory that there was no limit to what one could do when one didn't know what one couldn't do.


	10. Chapter 9

_AN: Some more angst, but hopefully you'll also see the humor here... Another strong language warning and heads up - there's a reference to something that seeme to be happening off camera in an ep that may have simply been wishful thinking for me. Please R&R!_

Chapter Nine

Jack wound up on the couch. Sam wound up half on the floor and half on the coffee table.

"What the fuck was that?" Jack looked around, trying to process how he had ended up back on the couch.

"Ouch." Sam rubbed her arm and examined it stupidly for damage.

Daniel watched Sam curiously. "Can you feel pain?"

Sam frowned at him. "Apparently. Kind of takes the fun out of it."

But Jack had already forgotten about the falling and the not falling and the various reasons why. He was indignant as he responded to the question he hadn't been asked. "Of course I feel pain. Why the fuck do you think I've been drinking?"

Daniel sat back down. "I know you feel pain, Jack. I was talking to Sam."

Sam expected him to erupt again. Daniel, after he thought about how callous his words would seem to Jack, expected him to erupt again. But Jack bowed his head and said nothing. Sam and Daniel glanced at each other, unsure as to what to do. The truth was they were both used to Jack being a consummate, albeit somewhat disrespectful, professional at all times. They didn't ever see him so drunk he couldn't walk or so devastated he couldn't function or so hurt he actually cried. So when he looked up at Daniel, tears streaming down his cheeks, neither of them had a clue what to say. They sat there and stared at him, rather embarrassed by and intensely aware of their emotional shortcomings.

"She's gone, Daniel. Don't you get it? She's gone and it's my fault and all I feel is pain." His voice was so weak and raw that Sam knew all the whiskey in the world wouldn't be enough to numb him.

"Close your eyes, Jack." Daniel glanced at Sam, hoping he wasn't exacerbating things. "I can feel her. You just have to try."

Jack closed his eyes, but not in response to Daniel's words. He was trying to stave off the tears. "I should be able to feel her, Daniel. I loved her." His words brought tears to Sam's eyes, and a rueful thought as to when she was going to hear those words from him without an audience. Because, really, there was nothing like Teal'c and Janet and a Tok'ra or Daniel standing by to completely ruin the mood of a heartfelt declaration of love.

Daniel leaned forward, trying to focus on Jack rather than Sam. "You don't believe, Jack. You think when a person dies, they're gone. I don't believe that, not anymore. She's here. You have to believe it."

Jack's eyes opened again, allowing more tears to escape. "If she's here, why can't I feel her?"

Daniel's eyes were wet when he glanced at Sam. They hated seeing their friend in his current state. Daniel started to think he should back off, knowing that it would only make things worse if he kept twisting the knife in Jack's gut.

"Daniel, please, you're getting through to him. Keep trying." If Jack didn't start to believe in her and feel better, she was going to die. Again.

"She's here, Jack. I swear. If you've ever trusted me on anything, trust me on this." Daniel met Jack's hard stare for only a moment before he jumped to his feet. "Screw that! Don't trust me. Trust Sam. Would she ever leave you? Would she ever let you down?"

Jack cracked a smile and let out a horrible sound not quite like a laugh. "She'd die first." He flopped back on the couch and closed his eyes. "Oh, wait, she did."

Daniel looked at Sam and shook his head. It wasn't working. Jack was either firmly entrenched in his beliefs that there was no such thing as life after death or he really was as dense as he claimed to be. "You need to try here, Jack." He approached the couch, looking at Sam and inclining his head to tell her to get lost. She headed for the hall, giving Daniel the idea that she was leaving, but she hovered just around the corner, desperate to find out what he was going to say. Daniel sat down next to Jack, putting his hand on Jack's arm. "I just lost a very good friend, Jack. I don't want to lose you too."

Jack slowly lifted his head, staring first at Daniel's hand on his arm and then at Daniel's face. "Are you coming on to me?"

"No!" Daniel nearly flew across the room in his effort to get away. He looked up at Sam, who was leaning in the room from the hallway and giggling at them. "This isn't going to work."

Jack had no idea Daniel wasn't talking to him. "No, it's not. And I strongly advise you to keep your hands to yourself in the future." He was staring at his arm like he thought it was dirty.

Daniel looked to Sam for guidance. "Help me out here. Tell me something that's going to happen or whatever. Maybe he needs evidence."

Sam glared at him. "I'm dead, Daniel, not psychic."

"Then what good is being dead?"

She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "Not a whole lot which is why I need your help to get everyone to pretend I'm alive." She glanced at Jack, who was staring at Daniel with wide, frightened eyes. "Besides, he hates scientists and therefore he probably doesn't particularly enjoy the scientific method of proving a theory."

"But if we give him something he can't deny, he'll have to admit it."

"Daniel, this is Jack! He'd swear that the moon was made of cheese if he thought it would piss you off."

Jack cleared his throat, trying to get Daniel's attention without admitting that it very much appeared Daniel was having a conversation with a hallucination. "Um, Daniel, if you don't mind, could you ask Teal'c to relieve you cause you're crazier than I am and it's freaking me out."

"I got it!" Sam ran across the room and grabbed Daniel's shoulders. "Just before you got here, he could see me. He almost kissed me. You couldn't know that. You weren't here."

Daniel grinned. "Jack, you were going to kiss Sam when I knocked. How would I know that if she didn't tell me?"

Jack shook his head. "You probably looked in the window and saw me. Are you stalking me too?" Jack squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable with the notion that Daniel had hit on him and was peering in his windows. There were things about his friend that he absolutely didn't want to know.

"If I'd only looked in the window, I might have thought you were kissing anyone. How'd I know it was Sam?"

"Who else would I be kissing? And I wasn't kissing her. I was thinking about it. Besides, she's dead so she wasn't even really here."

Daniel glanced at Sam. Sam shrugged. "Sam, give me something only you would know."

Sam searched her brain and realized, after taking a full inventory, that she didn't really know the love of her life all that well. Rather than admit it, she went back over everything from the start. "The day we met I challenged him to arm wrestle."

"The whole base knows that."

Sam frowned. "Remember when I got that alien virus and I tried to seduce him in the locker room?"

Daniel looked confused. "No."

"Exactly, cause you weren't there." Sam smiled. "He told me liked the tank top I was wearing."

"That little gray one that barely covered your chest? He might have mentioned that." Daniel looked embarrassed while Sam looked irritated. "Ok, so the whole base knows that too."

Sam's face colored red at the thought. She sat down on the couch. "I need to think harder." She grinned, the words calling to mind something else. "When we were in Antarctica, I snuggled up to him because we were freezing and he really enjoyed that."

"They found you all snuggled up to him, Sam, so again with the whole base knowing."

Sam waggled her eyebrows. "No, no, Danny, he-" She cleared her throat and winked at him to get her point across. "Really, really enjoyed that."

It was Daniel's turn to blush. "He thinks I was just hitting on him. I should probably not reference that unless I want to get my ass kicked."

Sam was mad, because not only had she thoroughly embarrassed herself, but because she'd done it for no good reason. "Oh, wait, when Jack and Teal'c were stuck in Apophis' Death Glider and they almost died, he reached for my hand when we ringed them aboard the cargo ship."

"I know, Sam, because I was there and even if I hadn't been, your father was and we're back to the whole base knowing."

Shaking her head despondently, she slumped down on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. "I've got nothing. I don't know a damned thing about him that no one else knows."

"No?" Daniel sat back down in the arm chair.

"Nope."

"That's really depressing."

"Tell me about it."

Jack cleared his throat again. "Daniel?"

"Yeah, Jack?"

"As much fun as it is to watch you have a conversation with yourself that makes less sense than most of the conversation you have with me, can I interrupt you for one second?" The lack of alcohol was seriously undermining Jack's ability to be quiet and withdrawn.

Daniel nodded, pretty sure he was going to wind up getting his head examined again. "Sure, why not? It's a pretty frustrating conversation anyhow." He glared at Sam, rather disappointed that she hadn't come up with something.

"Where did that come from?" Jack was pointing at the seat beside him, the seat that Sam was occupying.

Daniel looked perplexed. Nothing looked different to him. "What?" He checked with Sam, but she could only roll her eyes.

"She had her phone with her on the trip, Daniel. She was pissed off at me because it wouldn't work up in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Daniel realized Jack was talking about the phone sitting next to Sam whose pocket it had fallen out of when she flopped down on the couch. He felt like a psychiatrist as he leaned forward and smiled. "Where do you think it came from?"

"She had it with her on the plane, Daniel. The plane that crashed and smashed her into a billion little bits."

Daniel shivered, only feeling slightly comforted by the fact that Sam was sitting in front of him and didn't physically appear to be smashed into a billion little bits. "So?"

Jack looked up at Daniel. "So how did it get here?"

Daniel looked at Sam. "Do cell phones have souls, Sam?"

Sam picked it up, flipping it open and checking for service. "For the amount of money I paid for it, it had damn well better come with a lifetime of free calls in my next incarnation."

Jack glanced at the phone for a second and then looked right back at Daniel. "Daniel?" His voice was a whisper, wavering with terror. "Is it levitating?"


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Daniel smiled. If Jack believed in the ghost of a cell phone, it had to be a short trip to Jack believing in the ghost of Samantha Carter. "No, it's not levitating. Sam is holding it."

Jack looked angry. "Why are you having a harder time grasping this concept than I am? Sam's not holding anything. She's dead, Daniel."

"And her cell phone isn't?" Daniel rolled his eyes. "Really, Jack, are you telling me you'd sooner believe in a levitating cell phone than in Sam's ghost?"

"Yes, I am. Because I see a levitating cell phone." Jack reached over and grabbed the phone.

"Ow!" Sam snatched her hand back from Jack's crushing grip.

"Sorry." He said it without thinking, without connecting the voice to a name. He glanced at Daniel, glanced at the empty place beside him that had spoken, and then back at Daniel. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That sound."

"I heard you apologize."

"Did you hear something before that?"

"You mean when you said you believed phones could fly?"

Sam glared at Daniel. "Please don't encourage him, Daniel."

"No, after that." Jack looked as irritated as Sam, giving Daniel the idea that he shouldn't tease either of them and certainly not both simultaneously. "And I didn't say phones could fly. I said they could levitate. There's a difference. I'm sure Carter can tell you all about it, if you're so sure she's here." Jack lifted the phone up to shoulder height and let go, watching in dismay as it clattered to the floor. "I guess there's a trick to it."

Sam nodded, forgetting that he couldn't hear her. "Flying would involve traveling toward a destination while levitating is more of a state of being."

Daniel snickered. "Please don't encourage him, Sam."

Sam glared at him.

Pleased that he'd managed to spare listening to a scientific explanation of something, Daniel smiled at Jack. "You mean did I hear something when you grabbed the phone out of Sam's hand and she said ow?"

Jack watched as the phone got up off the floor and moved back onto the couch. Then he looked at Daniel. "Yeah, did you hear the phone say ow?"

Sam glared at Jack and examined her phone. "This had better not be broken." She shook it and thankfully heard nothing rattling inside. "I'll have a hell of a time getting a replacement with the whole dead thing. Somehow I bet that'll pop up on the credit check."

Daniel shook his head, knowing he had to facilitate Jack's recognition of Sam or else he was going to wind up having the same conversation at the wireless store. "No, Jack, I did not hear the phone speak."

"Oh." Jack looked back at the phone. "I want a phone that can move by itself. You think they make ones that will go to work for you?"

Irritated, Sam decided to check how real the phone was, considering that it apparently had more physical consistency than she did. She flipped it open and dialed Jack's number. The cordless phone on the coffee table rang a moment later. Both Daniel and Jack looked at it.

Daniel picked it up and handed it to Jack. "I think you should answer it."

Jack looked at the display. "It's Carter's cell."

Daniel prayed for the strength not to strangle his friend and amazingly found it in the knowledge that if he killed Jack, they would both end up haunting him. "I doubt Sam's phone wants to talk to you."

"Then why is it calling me?"

"It's Sam. And you should answer it."

Jack sighed and pressed the button. "Hello?"

"Hi." Sam wondered why she hadn't thought of calling him sooner.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Hello?"

Sam's smile faded as she realized Jack couldn't hear her. She didn't know what to say.

"You should know it's horribly rude to steal a dead woman's phone." Jack hung up, looking more dejected than he had when Sam had first gotten there.

"Unless you're the dead woman!" Sam threw the phone at Jack's head and, since she was sober, it connected nicely with its target. She ignored him when he glared at the phone. "Daniel, I think we should get him really drunk."

"He's still really drunk, Sam. Can't you tell?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "I mean back to semi-conscious stupor drunk. I had better luck then." She stood up, pushing past Jack's legs to get to the kitchen. A minute later he voice sounded from the other room. "All I can find it beer. Ask him where the good shit is."

Jack was doing a hell of a job pretending an invisible someone hadn't just brushed by his legs and was so busy concentrating on that pretending that he barely noticed the slamming kitchen cabinets.

"Sam wants to know where the strong stuff is."

Jack pointed at the shards of glass littering the floor in front of the fireplace. "I drank the rest."

"There is no more, Sam."

Sam returned with two bottles of beer. She had no idea if she could drink, but she really felt like having a beer and she figured if she could carry them she should be able to drink them too. Jack watched with wide eyes as one of the flying beer bottles approached him and hovered in front of him until he carefully reached for it. She grinned at his obvious discomfort. Jack was a laid back guy. He was always calm and relaxed. He just didn't get nervous. Very little frazzled him. Even when people where shooting at him, he was always cool. So Sam found some perverse pleasure in seeing him anxious and freaking out.

She sat down next to him once again and smiled at Daniel. "Go get him some whiskey."

Daniel wasn't sure about the wisdom of giving him more alcohol since he'd only just started to sober up. "Maybe we should keep showing him that you're here."

"Daniel, if he really believes my cell phone just called him of its own accord, we're definitely going to need alcohol to get anywhere."

Daniel stood up. "Fine. I'm going."

Jack, who was watching Sam's beer bottle turning and emptying itself in mid-air without spilling, looked at Daniel in fear. "Where are you going?"

"To get you whiskey."

Jack swallowed hard. "I don't think I really need anymore to drink just now, Daniel."

Daniel smiled. "As glad as I am to hear it, Sam thinks otherwise and we all know Sam is always right." He turned away then, heading for the door.

Jack jumped up, grabbing Daniel's arm. "You can't leave me here with that!"

"It's just Sam, Jack. She's not going to hurt you." Daniel thought about his words. "I'm sure there are times when she's wanted to, and actually, now might be one of them, but I doubt she'd actually do it."

Jack warily looked at the space Sam occupied. "You're sure it's Carter?"

Daniel nodded. "Absolutely. Anyone else would have long since given up on you and moved on to rattling chains."

"Ok, then, I guess she can stay." Jack sat back down on the couch, staring straight ahead and drinking his beer down in a few gulps. A few minutes later, he looked back where Sam was. "Are you really here?"

His voice was so raw, his emotions so clear, his need so obvious, that she felt a physical, or as near to physical as ghosts can feel, ache to comfort him. She's grown used to not being able to do anything over the years, but being limited by regulations was different. She found it especially frustrating because she couldn't even hold his eyes or make a vaguely reassuring comment that would let him know that she understood and that she was there for him. So she did what she could.

She set her beer down and took the empty bottle from his hand. Then she slid over next to him, lifting his arm up and wrapping it around her shoulders. It was obvious that he couldn't see her, but she wondered how his brain was reconciling the physical touches she believed he felt. She didn't let herself ponder for long. She was too caught up in what she was feeling herself as she snuggled against him. She draped her arm across his waist and burrowed her hard under his chin. She was a very content, very happy camper, grievances with the death process notwithstanding.

Except for the whole dead thing and the fact that the man with whom she was cuddling didn't really believe she was there, life, or death she thought with a smile Marge would have appreciated, was good.

She felt his head dip down and his lips graze her ear as he spoke. "Jesus, Carter, this had better be you cause I swear, if I'm about to be molested by a demon I'm going to be so unhappy."

She giggled, realizing he could probably feel her response even if he couldn't hear it.

"Are you laughing at me, Carter?"

She nodded, careful to keep her head in contact with him so he would feel it. His arm tightened as it fell from her shoulders, moving to hold her waist instead.

Talking was out. Seeing was out. Feeling was the way to go.

She decided to go for broke and shifted around until she was straddling him. Then she leaned down, holding his face with both hands so she could kiss him.

He resisted at first, probably something to do with the sensory overload combined with not being able to see what was causing the physical sensations. But then he relaxed and gave him, using his hands to pull her harder against him. The change, she realized, coincided with when he closed his eyes. She wondered if somehow he could sense her better with his eyes closed. But then his tongue moved across her lips and she forgot about thinking altogether.

Some time later, when Daniel cleared his throat, Sam pulled back.

"Am I interrupting?"

"Damn it, Daniel!" She glared at him, feeling guilty when she saw him holding the bottle of whiskey she'd sent him to get. "I know you mean well, but you really need to work on your timing." She turned back to Jack, ruefully preparing herself to give up her hard-earned seat in his lap. But when she looked, she saw something strange. Two somethings, in fact.

He was staring right at her.

And, more importantly, he was smiling.


	12. Chapter 11

_AN: Another long, thoroughly amusing (at least to me and anyone else who shares my odd sense of humor) chapter for you. Enjoy!_

Chapter Eleven

She forgot entirely about moving in deference to being polite as she smiled back. Apparently once he could see her, she didn't have anything to say.

"Hi." No one had ever seen Jack O'Neill with quite that stupid a look on his face.

"Well, apparently that problem is solved." Daniel fidgeted nervously. He was pretty sure someone was about to tell him to leave, but he didn't think he should go until someone expressly told him to. God forbid someone might call him back and he had to walk in on two of his best friends sucking face ever again. Of course, it didn't seem that his friends exactly noticed or cared that he was there as they sat there, in way too much physical contact for the third wheel's taste, gazing at each other. "Ok, so I'm just going to head out." He set the bottle of whiskey down on the table and disappeared.

Ok, so he didn't actually disappear, but by the time Sam pealed her eyes off Jack's long enough to turn around, it seemed to her that Daniel had disappeared into thin air. She turned back to Jack and grinned. "Miss me?"

He grinned back. "So I guess I'm not getting molested by a demon."

She raised one eyebrow in her best Teal'c impression. "Not unless you're thinking of saying no."

His eyes danced happily as he ran his hands over every bit of her he could reach. "If I'm crazy, I really don't ever want to get better."

She leaned in, unable to resist pecking his lips simply because she could. "You're not crazy. I'm really here."

"How?"

Sam grinned. "How? Aren't you the one who declared that people were not supposed to ask me how anything?"

"Normally, yes, but I'm really curious. I mean-" He looked around, almost as though he was afraid someone would overhear. "I thought you were dead."

"I am."

He shook his head the same way he always whenever she tried to explain the theory of how the gate worked. "Then how are you here?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

His happy expression started to fade. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean I don't know how. I'm here. Souls continue to exist after they're dead and they can come back if they want to. That's all I know."

His smiled disappeared so completely that she wondered if it had ever been there. He jumped to his feet, sending Sam tumbling off his lap, as he tried to put as much distance as he could between them. "You're not Carter!"

Sam stood up, rubbing the elbow which had struck the coffee table again. "No, I'm the ghost of Carter. But since I have a physical body on occasion and can talk, it's probably easier to call me Carter."

Jack took another step back, giving Sam the impression he was trying to fuse with the way with the way he pressed against it. "Get away from me!"

"Jack, it's me."

His eyes narrowed and slid to the left, planning on making a break for the front door at the first opportunity. "Carter didn't call me Jack."

"She tried, but you pretty much had the same reaction then too." Sam flopped on the couch, thoroughly disgusted with the situation. She'd thought getting people to admit she was there at all was difficult. She hadn't expected to have trouble getting them to believe it was her.

"There are no such things as ghosts." Jack's voice was matter-of-fact; however, it lost its authority coming from a man who was cowering in fear of something he claimed he didn't believe in.

"Then what am I?"

Jack abandoned his post at the wall and grabbed for the whiskey Daniel had retrieved. "You-" He opened the bottle and gagged down a swallow of the warm liquid. "Are exactly why I'm never sobering up again."

She approached him and took the bottle from his hand. "Don't do that." She set it down and looked back at him. "Do you want me to leave?"

Jack shrugged, weighing the benefits of seeing Carter, even if she wasn't really Carter, against the idea of spending time with an evil-Carter impersonating demon, even if it wasn't really there. "I think so."

"Fine, I'll leave. But don't give yourself alcohol poisoning. Getting your stomach pumped isn't going to help anything." Her shoulders drooped. Things were not going the way she intended. "I'll be with Daniel if you change your mind."

"Why?" He looked wary, but hurt.

"Because he isn't afraid of me? Because he admits that he sees me? Because he's sober? Take your pick."

"Are you- were you-" He swallowed hard and looked even more unhappy. "With him?"

"A minute ago you thought he was hitting on you."

Jack winced. "You heard that?"

"I was here."

"So does that mean you aren't involved with him?"

"We're friends, Jack."

"I don't really want you to leave." He turned away, trying to mask his emotions. "Not if it really is you."

"I can't prove it to you. Besides assuring you that I remember the complete and utter disaster that weekend at the cabin was, but I'm trying to pretend that didn't happen, so I can't even assure you of that."

Jack smirked. "Yeah, it was pretty awful, wasn't it?" And then his face fell, revealing utter devastation. "God, this is all my fault. I threw you out. I put you on that plane. I'm the reason you're dead." He reached for the whiskey again, but Sam's hand caught his.

"Ok, first of all, it was actually all my case worker's mistake and it wasn't supposed to happen. Nothing you or I did had any effect on it and wouldn't have changed the outcome."

Jack didn't look convinced, but he said nothing and he didn't try for the bottle again.

"And secondly, what difference does it really make?" She stepped forward, leaning against him. It barely took a second for his hands to find their way to her back in what felt like a terribly natural movement to both of them. "I'm still here. As far as I can tell, the only differences are that I don't get noticed by a lot of people I probably don't want to be noticed by anyway and I don't have to pay taxes."

He grinned despite himself. "I guess you don't have to worry about dying either."

Sam smirked when she felt his grip tighten and pull her closer. "And I don't have to worry about those pesky Air Force regulations either. I might need to move in with you right away though since I'm not sure I'm going to qualify for a mortgage considering that I have no income and I'm dead."

He looked completely stupefied by her words. Slowly his hands started to move up her back, caressing her gently.

She winked at him. "I think you're finally catching on, flyboy."

She didn't have a chance to say anything else because his mouth suddenly closed over hers. She let him kiss her, let his plundering tongue do some serious damage to her ability to think straight. But there was something bothering her, something that wouldn't let her truly enjoy the experience, something that she couldn't deny. She pulled away.

"Uh, Jack?"

His pupils were dilated and he looked drugged. He was a typical male - all moral dilemmas paled in the light of having sex. "What's wrong?"

"Go take a shower." It was obviously not the statement he was expecting.

"What?"

"I might be dead, but I can still smell."

He looked down sheepishly. "That bad?"

She nodded. "Brush your teeth too."

Jack hung his head as he walked toward the bathroom. Sam feared that the time alone would undo what she'd just done. She followed him, reveling in the sight of him pulling his shirt over his head. He might have been drunk and half-starved and laying off the workouts for three weeks, but he still looked fantastic. She smiled at his questioning glance when she threw her shirt next to his.

"If you brush your teeth first, I'll join you in the shower." His eyes widened in response and Sam could see the 'it's not her' wheels start turning again. She wasn't about to have that. "Look, Jack, you never knew me when you weren't my CO and now that you're not my CO, everything I do is going to seem out of character." She tried her best to sound as professional and confident as he was used to her sounding, but it was really difficult with the way he was ogling her chest. She reached out and snagged his chin with her finger. "My face is up here."

"Sorry." His cheeks were red. He nodded toward her shirt, crumpled on the floor. "You're going to be able to put that back on, right?" Luckily, he continued before she had a chance to panic that he had changed his mind. "It's not that I mind-" His eyes steadily drifted down to her chest. "Cause I so don't, but you might not want to see Daniel like that."

Sam hadn't actually given any thought to the clothes she was wearing. She'd been in the same thing - the clothes she'd been wearing the day she died - since her first conscious thought in the DMV line. For the most part, Same wore the plan, comfortable, white cotton panties and bras she'd always felt would be the least embarrassing underwear to be caught in by fellow soldiers in the locker room, her teammates in case of other-worldly chemicals which might (and had) cause her to give them a strip tease, the paramedics if she were ever in an accident, or the coroner if the accident was really bad. Besides, she wasn't the seductive type and because of her looks, which she swore wasn't at all conceited, she'd never really had to try skimpy lace to get a man's attention.

But the weekend she'd died was supposed to have been special. She'd been expecting that she'd be having sex with Jack and, although she hated to admit it, he seemed like the sort of guy who would thoroughly enjoy seeing his prim little Major decked out in impossibly thin piece of lace in a variety of garish and embarrassing colors.

She'd made a special trip to the store - the horrid one that advertised with body parts she didn't think belonged on network TV - and bought a bunch of things she didn't ever want anyone to know she owned. She'd even paid for the purchases, which included sheer black lace, shimmering lavender, and a horrid green rubber set the salesgirl had sworn would look spectacular on her that Sam had bought just to stop the girl from mentioning her cleavage one more time - with cash so her bank wouldn't know she'd ever gone there. And, of course, she hadn't packed for the possibility that she and Jack would be fighting and fully clothed the whole time, so she'd spent the trip intensely uncomfortable due to unnatural fabric sticking to her and sharp wires poking her in places unnatural fabrics and sharp wires had no business being, which she realized belatedly might have had something to do with her bitchy mood during the trip.

Sam looked down and wanted to die all over again. No wonder he was staring. She was donning a fire-engine red mesh bra with absolutely no nod to modesty whatsoever. It didn't cover a damn thing. It didn't pretend to. And it wasn't even sorry about it either. Jack was right - Daniel would die too if he saw her in that. She was utterly mortified, which was silly considering she'd bought the bra for Jack in the first place, except he was supposed to enjoy it and by enthralled by it and not mention its utter impracticality. She decided to grab the bull by the horns, tugging the waistband of her jeans down a little to reveal the matching strip of fabric at her hip

"Weren't you supposed to be brushing your teeth?"

When Jack didn't answer, she grinned smugly. "And drooling isn't winning you any points."

Probably due to sheer astonishment, Jack obediently brushed his teeth. When he was finished, he turned back to her. "Um, I just want to clarify, we're going to be able to actually - uh - you know - with - up - the - um-"

She adjusted the temperature controls for the shower and then faced him, still grinning as confident, cocky Jack stuttered around for some way to ask the question. He was bright red when he finally gave up. She found his unease amusing - he was willing to have sex with her, but not talk about it with her. "You mean can we actually have sex?"

"Uh, yeah, that."

"I have no idea. I've never had sex dead." She shrugged. "Of course, I didn't really have that much of it when I was alive and I certainly never with you, so our odds are probably just as good."

Jack looked hesitant while the steam from the shower started to fill the room. "I don't want to start something we're not going to finish."

Sam raised her eyebrows and let her eyes drift down to his pants. "I hate to break it to you, but it's already started." She was referring to his body's reaction to her red mesh approximation of underwear. Without the benefit of his oversized shirt to hide it, his interest in her was obvious and made her wonder if his oversized uniform jacket hadn't hidden the same thing over the years. She congratulated herself for having been right about him liking eye candy, even if she hated that she'd bought it. But she couldn't hate it so much anymore, because she absolutely loved the effect it had on him.

She made quick work of her jeans and sneakers and socks, allowing him a few seconds of staring before she finished undressing and climbed into the shower. She leaned back through the curtain and crooked her finger for him to follow. "You're a little overdressed, Jack."

She didn't have to wait long.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Quite a while later, Sam and Jack were snuggled happily in his bed. They'd quickly discovered that sex was not only possible for them, but even more enjoyable since they'd faced the harsh reality of losing one another, or at least thinking they had. Sam propped her quite thoroughly smug self up on her elbows and looked down at a very thoroughly content Jack.

"Was that real enough for you?"

He grinned. "I didn't hear you complaining." His hands rubbed lightly against her back, igniting the insatiable urge to touch him once again. "Although I did hear you moaning and screaming and begging and I'd even swear you were purring at a couple points there."

She grinned back, refusing to acknowledge that her sex death was a whole hell of a lot better than her sex life had been. "I don't seem to recall you crying for mercy either, but then I'm pretty sure my head hit the tiles a few dozen times."

He leaned up and kissed her which distracted both of them. But as things quickly returned to an undeniable fervor, Jack pulled away like he'd been hit by a bucket of cold water, which he had been, but it had actually been a shower head and it had been earlier when they'd realized their appetite for one another far exceeded the limits of Jack's hot water heater.

Sam was terrified for a moment that he couldn't see her again because she'd been having issues along the lines of thinking she didn't believe it was finally happening for them, and such a thought would have devastating effects on her existence so far as Jack's perception. "Jack? What's wrong?"

"We didn't use anything."

"Huh?" She'd been completely enthralled with them using each other and, having never been the type to use toys in her life, hadn't really missed anything. She was kind of disappointed that he needed or wanted something besides her. But all she could concentrate on was how to get his lips reattached to her anatomy. She wasn't even being picky as to which part of her anatomy. Just so long as his lips were touching her skin, she didn't care where they were.

"Are you on the pill?" He tried to pull away further, but she wouldn't let him. He struggled, trying to keep her from using the fact that his body didn't seem to care that his brain was trying to get away. "Shit. I wasn't thinking straight." He gave up fighting because Sam had already shifted her weight and noticed what Jack had been trying to keep her from noticing - that certain part of his body that was the least interested in getting away from her. "How could I think straight around you?"

"I'm not going to get pregnant, Jack. Relax."

His frightened look passed instantly, shifting to sadness. "Why? Is something wrong?" He was disappointed too, which Sam noted answered the question she'd always had about him ever wanting more children.

She giggled as she watched his face during his mental tirade at himself for being so thoughtless. "Yes, Jack, something is wrong. I'm dead."

"Oh."

"Right."

"That might make it hard."

"Exactly."

"But not necessarily impossible, right? I mean, I am having sex with a dead woman." He looked sick for a moment after he spoke. "Wait, that didn't come out right."

"Good, cause it didn't sound right."

"So, I can't knock you up, right?"

"Not as far as I know."

He grinned. "Cool."

"Because, really, what would that produce? A half dead baby or a half living ghost? Or maybe a baby that's half invisible to the average person. And where would I go to have it? I'd have to find a really crazy doctor to deliver it and I wouldn't want a really crazy doctor delivering my baby."

"Carter?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"Shut up." When she did as he instructed, he immediately went about not knocking her up to the best of his abilities, which, Sam had already discovered, were really rather remarkable.

The next day, a smiling, humming, irrationally happy Jack walked into the mess for breakfast. A smiling, humming, irrationally happy Sam sat next to him, plucking pieces of his waffles off his plate with her fingers. She stared at the syrup that remained, grinning playfully at Jack. For his part, he was outwardly very reserved and felt confident only Sam knew that he was very seriously considering licking her fingers clean. Sam, of course, had had the same thought and the only thing that stopped her from encouraging him was that, even if no one could see her, or perhaps especially if no one could see her, it would look very, very bad for her and Jack to have sex on a table in the mess. First of all, the table would probably collapse under their combined weight. Second, both Walter and Daniel frequented the mess for breakfast and they could both see her. And third, for those that couldn't see her, it would likely be the last straw to commit Jack to an asylum.

So she licked the syrup off her own fingers and promptly realized, from the dark look in Jack's eyes, that her actions had not at all helped the situation. She grinned maliciously, quite pleased with herself for finally having earned the right to tease Jack mercilessly and, perhaps more of a boost for her self-esteem, that her normally quiet, buttoned-up sexuality had Jack's complete attention that wasn't waning in the slightest bit even after he'd gotten her in bed.

As soon as he forced is eyes back to his breakfast which wasn't nearly as appealing as the ghost at his side, she leaned over, letting her body press against his side as she whispered in his ear. "Think we can find an empty storage closet somewhere?"

Jack started to cough, half choking on his food, and Sam sat back laughing. It would take a long time before Jack ever got used to hearing such blatant innuendos from her. Before he could come up with a suitable answer, Daniel and Teal'c approached them. They took their seats across from Jack and Sam.

Daniel, if he noticed the charged atmosphere, made no mention of it, probably because he was simply thankful they weren't playing tonsil hockey and that Sam wasn't in Jack's lap while they were playing tonsil hockey. "It's good to see you eating, Jack."

Jack said nothing, neither to acknowledge nor apologize for his behavior. As well as things were going with their relationship, he was pretty sure he'd prefer his girlfriend living, even if she couldn't actually be his girlfriend while she was living. But when he felt her leg slide against his, he wasn't so sure about that.

Teal'c nodded at both of them. "It is also good to see you free of intoxicants, O'Neill."

Jack played with his food, starting to question if the whole thing with Sam had really happened since his friends didn't seem to be mentioning her presence. Just when he started to feel completely stupid and entirely unprepared to have shown up at work sober, Daniel spoke.

"Morning, Sam. I see you're up to your old tricks off being a good influence on Jack."

Teal'c eye Daniel and Jack warily before testing the waters. "It is a pleasure to have you with us again, Major Carter."

"I'm not a major anymore, Teal'c. I'm just Sam now."

"Very well. Then it is a pleasure to have you with us again Samantha Carter."

Sam turned to Jack. "I'm not sure that's an improvement."

Jack thought about it for a moment and then started to grin. "Today is a vast improvement over the last three weeks, Carter. I'll take it as a win."

Giggling, Sam reached over and stole a spoonful of Daniel's oatmeal, making a face as she swallowed it. "You got raisins."

"I like raisins."

"I don't."

"Then get your own."

"That might just upset everyone again."

Jack looked up, only vaguely remember something akin to a giant food fight unfurling around him. "That was you?"

Sam shrugged. "I got a little upset."

Daniel snorted into his coffee. "A little? You destroyed all the dishes. We had to eat off paper plates for a week."

"You were ignoring me!"

Jack grinned. "Remind me not to ignore her any time soon."

Sam reached over and smeared syrup on her fingers, holding Jack's stare while she licked it off. "Somehow, I doubt you'll ever ignore me again, Jack." Jack was completely transfixed. Teal'c was trying to ignore them.

"At least not as long as you've got access to condiments." Daniel decided that was worse than her being in Jack's lap, but still better than the kissing. He directed his attention to his oatmeal.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

A half hour later, Sam tagged along happily with her team as they were summoned to the conference room. There was another SG team already there with Hammond. SG-1 took places at the table. No one else noticed Sam's presence. SG-4 looked uncomfortable and sad and slightly guilty. General Hammond looked depressed. Sam wondered if it was because Daniel and Walter's scans hadn't turned up any evidence of drug use and he thought he had to face the fact that they were simply insane.

Not one to ever hold his tongue, Jack looked around the room with a smile that even the gloomy atmosphere couldn't erase. "Why so glum? Who died?"

Hammond looked horrified. SG-4 exchanged worried glances. Daniel started to snicker. Jack, who hadn't caught on, felt Sam kick him.

"Oh, I mean besides her." He gestured vaguely in the direction of Sam's chair, the chair that appeared empty to five of the people in the room. Her death didn't seem nearly as upsetting to him anymore, not since it had become obvious that she wasn't gone.

Unfortunately, SG-4 and Hammond continued to stare, unsure of what to make of Jack's sudden and nonchalant dismissal of Sam's death.

Jack realized he'd said something stupid, but in typical Jack style, he thought that saying something more stupid would fix it, or at least make the first comment not seem so stupid in comparison. "I mean, that's been three weeks now. I'm ok. Daniel's ok. Teal'c's ok. We're ok." He paused to process the stares of the others. "Are you ok, sir?"

General Hammond nodded. "I'm more worried about you, son."

"I'm fine, sir." He looked at Sam. "I just said that, didn't I?" Sam nodded. Jack turned back to the general. "Yeah, I'm good, actually."

"I'd like you to report to the infirmary as soon as we're done here and have yourself thoroughly examined."

"Is that really necessary, sir?"

"I believe so.

"She's dead, sir. I know. There's nothing I can do about it. So we're moving forward, right?" As he spoke, he looked back at Sam who smiled encouragingly at the moving forward part. He smiled back, a perfectly goofy 'I'm hopelessly in love' sort of smile that alarmed the same five people who thought the chair was empty.

"Colonel, you're talking to an empty chair. I think a medical evaluation is called for."

"That chair is-" Jack caught the almost imperceptible way Daniel shook his head. He glanced at Teal'c who uncharacteristically mimicked Daniel's action. Jack smiled. "Completely empty." Sam kicked him again, much harder. "Ow! Be nice or you'll have to stay with someone else tonight!"

Sam giggled. "You wouldn't punish yourself like that." To illustrate her point, Sam reached over and let her hand land on his thigh.

"Colonel O'Neill, I'd like you to seek a psychiatric evaluation as well. Might as well get the whole picture, right?"

Daniel joined Sam in laughing at Jack's misfortune. He'd already had to endure the full work-up.

Teal'c appeared annoyed with the situation, which his teammates knew was because he didn't like denying that Sam was there, but that he wasn't about to make himself look nuts. "General Hammond, why have we been summoned here?" He was probably fearing, rightfully so, that he'd be undergoing a medical evaluation too if he didn't get away from people who couldn't see Sam.

"On their last mission, SG-4 encountered some unfamiliar devices. Captain Stevens repots that some old writings on the planet indicate the devices having some sort of magical powers."

Sam leaned forward, eagerly anticipating the punch line. "So it's possible new technology I can play with, right?" The guys watched Sam, each one smiling the slightest bit that she was really still the same old Sam.

General Hammond continued without having heard Sam's comment. "Since there is some evidence that we are possibly dealing with a new power source or weapon, I would like to send someone to investigate it."

Jack smiled, realizing that three weeks of doing nothing was kind of boring when one wasn't passive-aggressively suicidal. "That's where we come in, right?"

"Provided you are cleared medically and sober, Colonel, you will escort Dr. Felger to the planet."

"What?" Sam jumped up from her chair, sending it rolling along the floor. "What about me? Why don't I get to work on it?" She poked Jack in the side. "Say something!"

Jack shifted in his chair to avoid the sharp nail attached to Sam's finger. "Felger, sir?"

"At this time, he is the best we have, Colonel."

"But-"

"Major Carter seemed to think he had some potential."

"I was just being nice! He's a bumbling idiot!" She reached over and yanked a piece of Jack's hair.

"Ow! Damn it, that hurt!"

"I never liked the way he looked at me."

Jack swallowed hard. He'd never liked the way Felger had looked at Sam either, but he hadn't felt like it would be appropriate to mention it. "Sir, why don't you let us take a look at it by ourselves? Maybe we can figure it out."

Hammond stared at him blankly. "You don't have a scientist on your team."

"Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I'm not a scientist!" Sam stomped over to her chair and kicked it, sending it flying across the room. Five pairs of eyes watched it. Five brains compulsively ignored it.

"Daniel's a scientist, sir." Jack was grasping at straws. He really wanted to appease Carter because he didn't relish the idea of watching her throw a tantrum like the one he'd been present for, although unaware of, in the mess. But he really didn't want to spend the rest of his days in a padded cell either.

"Colonel, I'm still toying with the idea of reassigning Teal'c and Dr. Jackson to other teams and strongly suggesting that you retire."

Jack's eyes widened. Daniel's mouth dropped open. Teal'c's eyebrow rose. Sam plopped unceremoniously into the chair she had been abusing. All four of them spoke in unison. "What?"

"Your team was very much like a family, Colonel, and unfortunately, I fear the loss of Major Carter has had some dramatic effects on your mental health. I'm not convinced that you're all as ok as you say."

Jack pouted. "So I was upset. Carter died and I thought it was my fault so I drank myself into a stupor. But, sir, I swear, I'm ok now. I'm sober. I understand now that it wasn't my fault that her plane crashed. I'm actually ok with the way things are at the moment."

General Hammond dismissed SG-4 and they quietly left the room. "Jack, the love of your life died tragically three weeks ago. You shouldn't be fine."

Sam giggled and wheeled herself in her chair back to Jack's side. "Am I really the love of your life?" In all their fooling around, they hadn't yet managed to say the words to each other.

Now, granted, with the considerably smaller number of people in the room, it was considerably harder for General Hammond to ignore the self-propelled chair, yet he was a determined man and managed to do just that.

"Sir, I need you to see things from my perspective. I think Carter is still with us, in some form." His voice rose to a squeak as Sam's hand landed in his lap again.

She giggled from his reaction. "I could have so much fun with this."

"Sir, I need you to bear with me and not call for security."

Hammond's eyes immediately darted to the phone on the other side of the room.

"Do you trust me, sir?"

Hammond swallowed hard. "I did until you asked me that, Colonel."

"Do you trust Carter?"

Hammond's eyes squeezed closed and the color drained from his face. "Major Carter has passed away, Jack. But yes, I did trust her."

Jack smiled. "When did the laws of physics that limit the rest of us ever get in her way?"

"Where are you going with this?" Hammond was still looking nervous, especially because of the silent, resigned manners of Teal'c and Daniel.

"She's still here, sir."

"Major Carter is here?" Hammond glanced around, but his disbelieving eyes saw nothing.

"Yup." He nodded and let the grin take over. He finally realized why Sam was always in a good mood - it was fun to know more than other people. He turned to Sam. "Do something." With a huge grin, she leaned over and kissed him square on the mouth. After a moment, Jack pulled back and shook his head to clear it. "Something besides that."

Hammond, who'd already been thinking about the phone, started to inch his chair toward it.

"Go unplug the phone so the general can't have me hauled off by security."

Sam sighed. "You're not my CO anymore, you know. You can't order me around."

"Carter, will you please get the phone before he does?"

Sam obediently materialized directly between the phone and Hammond's outstretched hand, snatching the phone from the cradle and pulling the wire from it. She took advantage of the general's confusion by spinning his chair around and pushing him back to his spot at the table. His eyes were wide as saucers. He looked at Daniel, who shrugged, and then at Teal'c, who stared straight ahead without comment.

"What the hell was that?"

"That, sir, was Carter." Jack smiled. "Give me the phone." Slightly annoyed that he was still ordering her around, Sam hurled it at him. Jack ducked just in time for the phone to sail over his head and impact with the wall. "I'm sorry. Did I forget to say please?"

Daniel smiled. "Just don't ask her to sing."

"Sir, you're not in any danger." Jack grinned at Sam.

"Unless you ask her to sing." Sam sincerely wished she had something to launch at Daniel for his comment, but she had nothing.

Luckily, Jack recognized the angry look in her eyes. "Unless you piss her off." His eyes darted between Daniel and Hammond. "It is Carter, sir."

Hammond looked around. "Dr. Jackson, is this what you were experiencing yesterday?"

Daniel shrugged. "Actually, I could see her and hear her, which is what made it particularly upsetting."

"You can see her?"

Two heads nodded emphatically. The third reluctantly nodded only once.

Sam picked up the pitcher of coffee and poured a cup for Jack, Daniel, and herself. She approached Hammond with it. "Would you like some, sir?" Forcibly retired or not, she couldn't bring herself to call him George.

Hammond watched the pitcher uneasily. "Colonel, is that pitcher levitating?"

Sam and Daniel started to laugh. Jack gave Sam his patented 'I'm terribly jealous but I can't say anything look.' "You had better not convince him the way you convinced me." Sam kept laughing.

Daniel looked sick. "Sam, I will be very upset if you wind up in the general's lap."

Ignoring Daniel's comment, she glared at Jack. "Does he want coffee or not?"

Jack smiled at his CO, who was still quite nervous about the pitcher. "Coffee, sir?"

Hammond looked up, approximating where her face would be and nodded. Sam decided his terrified stare at her left shoulder was close enough. She poured him some coffee and then sat back down.

"So, are you convinced?" Sam watched Hammond carefully for any sign that he heard her. His eyes didn't waver from his study of the coffee he was quite definitely not interested in drinking. She turned to Jack. "Got any other ideas? Because I'm absolutely not going to kiss him."

Jack was offended. "I was not about to suggest that you kiss him." Hammond looked up in alarm, but Jack didn't notice. "If you kiss him, Carter, I will so kill you. Again."

"I assure you, Jack, that's one man I would never cheat on you with."

"Good to know." He sat quietly, realizing that it wasn't really good to know since he'd already assumed that anyway and the simple suggestion had put an unwelcome idea in his head. "Can't you make the lights flash or something?"

"I'm me, Jack, not a poltergeist."

Daniel joined in, unable to resist the temptation. "Actually, Sam, although a poltergeist is popularly known for making noise and causing mischief, it's really a spirit who makes its presence known through moving objects." He grinned. "Like cell phones and pitchers."

Teal'c smiled in Sam's unamused silence. "After witnessing your display of mischief in the cafeteria, I would have to agree that you are indeed a poltergeist, Samantha Carter."

Sam heaved a very unhappy sigh and decided she wasn't speaking to her friends anymore, even if they were the only ones besides Walter who could see her.

"But when it comes down to it, Sam," Daniel cleared his throat and tried to bite back his smile. "I think you're a succubus."

"I am not." Sam's eyes widened. Her cheeks grew red. "He was awake!" She squeezed her eyes closed and tried her ghost time movement backwards. It didn't work. "That's not why I'm here." She saw Jack's eyes slide downward, like he was hurt. "Not that it isn't a very good reason to stay."

Teal'c looked confused. "What is the definition of a succubus?"

Sam sat with her arms folded over her chest, refusing to answer. She was going back to her not speaking to them theory.

Jack shook his head at Teal'c. "I'm so not going there."

Daniel smiled weakly, realizing for once that he completely agreed with Jack. He'd been willing to tease Sam, but he didn't want to explain it to Teal'c. "Look it up."

"I shall." Teal'c did not look pleased.

"Uh, guys?" Jack looked around and then back at the group. "Where'd the general go?"


	15. Chapter 14

_AN: There is a point to this story and I am getting there! Bear with me - it won't be too much longer! Thanks for all the reviews!_

Chapter Fourteen

Sam was, it turned out, the only one who found it hysterical when a group of SFs appeared a few moments later to escort the living members of SG-1 to the infirmary. She was also the only one who though their subsequent exams, the second one for Daniel in as many days, were funny aw well. Sam even thought it was particularly amusing to whisper various inappropriate things into Jack's ear while Dr. Fraiser tried to examine him without noticing the rapidly growing bulge in his pants.

At one point, Jack tried to turn around and yell at Sam, but she smiled and somberly told him that would be a very bad idea with their audience. Jack silently faced Janet, who was unable to hide her alarm at seeing Jack so obviously interacting with something that wasn't there.

Poor Janet was completely overwhelmed not only at the loss of her friend, but at the apparent mental collapse of her friends as well. She went through the motions of the exams and waiting for the results of the tests, but it was clear to everyone that she wasn't sure what to do with them r even what to suggest might be wrong with them. She spoke with them each in turn, trying to figure out if they were really all hallucinating or if two were only covering for the crazy one and, if that was the case, which one was the crazy one. During her time with Teal'c, he asked for a dictionary. Janet was so surprised that she actually got him one before she realized it was a strange request for him.

Janet was looking at her notes, struggling for something to explain the symptoms. Because she'd always considered them to be her friends and because she knew the damage that could be caused, she was leery of coming to a psychiatric diagnosis. Plus, she was hindered by the fact that psychiatric problems were usually individual disorders, which couldn't account for the shared nature of their hallucinations. She was desperate to find something else and she was rather hoping it would be obvious if she just looked long enough. And she was also operating under the additional stress of General Hammond's insistence that they be diagnosed and cured quickly so they could go on a mission, despite her personal qualms with sending the wounded unit into the field.

Teal'c broke the odd, uncomfortable silence by loudly closing the dictionary. "O'Neill, have you had sexual intercourse with the ghost of Samantha Carter?"

Janet stared in horror. Sam stared in horror. Daniel stared in horror.

Jack looked suitably embarrassed. "Teal'c, there are women present." It was one thing to boast about his conquests in the locker room with the guys when everyone else was doing it. It was something else to boast about his conquests with his latest conquest standing there. Especially since his latest conquest could probably kick the crap out of him since she did have one foot in the spirit world.

"There is one woman present, O'Neill, and one ghost." Teal'c nodded at Janet, who was still staring in horror. "As a member of the medical profession, Dr. Fraiser should not feel embarrassed by such a discussion."

Jack was afraid to look at Sam, even out of the corner of his eye. He suspected a great deal of her respect and affection for him was riding on his answer. "My relationship with Carter is not an appropriate topic of conversation."

Sam smiled proudly. "Good answer."

Teal'c frowned, his sharp mind picking up the fact that Jack didn't deny it. "I believe Daniel Jackson was correct. The presence of Samantha Carter may indeed be a succubus."

Janet's eyes widened further. As far as she could tell, Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c all believed they were being molested in their sleep by a demon in the form of their friend. "I'm afraid this is out of my hands. I don't think I have any other choice than to call Dr. Mackenzie."

Teal'c looked at Janet. "That will not be necessary. Samantha Carter's ghost is not present."

Jack and Daniel and Sam all turned to stare. Janet didn't look convinced. "I'm not sure I believe you, Teal'c. Just a moment ago you indicated some interaction with her."

"You will not be able to force me to undergo a psychiatric evaluation for seeing something I claim to not have seen." Teal'c ignored the way Sam stuck her tongue out at him.

Janet looked at Jack. "He's been spending too much time with you, sir."

Jack smiled placatingly. "You know, doc, if you would just admit that you see her then none of us would look crazy." He didn't need to add that he was concerned about looking the craziest because Sam was leaning on his shoulder and he couldn't not put his arm around her.

"On the contrary, sir, we would all look crazy and I assure you, Sam is not here."

Daniel flopped back on his bed and flung his arm over his face. "I am so tired of having this conversation. Forget it. Sam's not here." He peeked out from under his arm and shrugged at Sam. "Sorry."

Janet looked at Jack. "Sir? You've got two traitors on your team unless you suddenly change your mind as well." At least an idea of which one was crazy was finally starting to form.

"Um." He glanced at Sam whose face revealed the hurt and anger she was feeling for her friends turning on her. "I'd really rather not get committed to a psych hospital just yet."

Sam sat up and Jack's arm fell from her shoulders. "Don't you dare." She could take Daniel going with the crowd. She hadn't honestly expected that Teal'c would ever admit to having seen her, so his change of heart wasn't that shocking. But Jack, now that was different. If he denied seeing her, it would hurt far too much - considering that she had come back from the dead for him and all.

Janet was looking at Jack hopefully. Sam was looking at Jack hopefully.

Jack looked down at his hands. "Janet, you all thought we were nuts when Urgo was here, right? So maybe you just tell yourself that it's the same thing."

"There's nothing on any of your scans, sir."

"No errant pixels?"

"None, sir."

Sam watched as Jack's eyes darted over to her. She knew he was weighing the options. She decided to play hardball. Leaning over, she gently bit down on his earlobe. "Me or Janet, Jack. You can only make one of us happy."

Jack took a long moment to gather his thoughts back from the vicinity of his groin where they had relocated. "Janet, let's just say Sam isn't-" He raised his hands to indication quotes. "Here. How's that?"

Janet put her files aside and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sir, do you see Major Carter or not?"

Sam ran her hand along Jack's chest, letting it come to rest on his leg. Jack winced when her hand brushed a little too close to his zipper. "Damn it, will you stop that?"

"Fine. Forget it." Crushed, Sam jumped up off the bed and headed for the door. "If none of you want me here, then I'll leave." She was halfway there before Jack realized she was really hurt.

"Carter, wait!" He forgot entirely about pretending she wasn't there. He forgot entirely about fooling Janet. He forgot entirely about the fact that the men at the door were there to keep him from leaving. He could only see Sam's back as she brushed between them. "Stop!"

Janet's hopes fell. Jack's retraction was the only hope she had for giving General Hammond the news he wanted. But it was more than that. Jack was obviously terrified and he obviously believed that Sam was there - or he wouldn't be so scared of her leaving.

Daniel sat up, realizing that since he'd been the one to help Jack understand that Sam was there he would somehow be responsible if Jack lost her again. Teal'c looked concerned as well, recognizing that his teammates had followed his lead. Sam kept walking, too hurt to hear the despair and fear in Jack's voice. She hadn't minded being put up to parlor tricks, not so long as her friends weren't denying her. She wasn't even really planning on leaving; she figured her continued presence, under the circumstances, was only causing trouble.

"Carter, come back!" Jack tried to surge past the SFs at the door, but they stopped him. "Sam! Please!"

Sam stopped and turned. He'd used her first name. It made her realize how desperate he was. When she looked, she saw the panic and pain in his face. She knew he hadn't meant to hurt her. But she couldn't make her feet move.

"Please, Sam, I'll do anything. They can call Mackenzie." He looked at Janet, unconcerned about appearances anymore. "Have me committed, Janet. I don't care." He looked back at Sam. "Please, god, just don't leave me again, Sam!"

Suddenly her feet were running, propelling her along the floor faster than they ever had. She barely registered the dismay on the faces of the SFs at the door when she shoved them aside and threw herself at Jack. Her impact sent him flying backwards. Jack's arms were around her, holding on for dear life as they hit the floor. Had she looked up, she would have seen the two startled SFs, staring at her like they'd seen a ghost. But she didn't look up. She was looking at Jack, the man she loved more than life, or death, itself. The man who was crying in front of a lot of people he normally would be embarrassed to cry in front of over the idea that she would leave him. She tightened her hold on him as she started to cry as well.

"I'll never leave you, Jack. Never. I promise." She sobbed against his chest, hating herself for hurting him.

All Jack could do was hold her and try to recover from the terrifying moments when he'd thought she wasn't coming back.


	16. Chapter 15

_AN \\: Sorry for the delay... there was an unexpected trip to Boston involved... Enjoy!_

Chapter Fifteen

Several minutes later, Teal'c stepped over the pair clinging hysterically to each other on the floor. "Dr. Fraiser, I must apologize for having made an untruthful statement. Samantha Carter is indeed here and if you do not see her, I believe it is your loss."

Daniel was looking rather guilty himself. "I'm sorry, Janet, but Teal'c's right. There's no way to deny this. And trying to is just going to hurt them even more."

Janet, who was doing a bang-up job of completely ignoring the tear stains which appeared seemingly from nowhere on Jack's shirt, turned to the frightened, pale SFs. "Do you see Major Carter?" She hardly knew what to do when they both nodded. She told herself it was a never before recorded contagious hallucination. Then she sat down on a stool and redoubled her efforts to make sense of what she was, or wasn't as the case appeared to be, seeing by studying the lab reports.

Jack and Sam eventually sat up, but they stayed huddled together on the floor. Neither one was about to let go of the other; it was too early in their newly intimate relationship for them to be quite ready to forsake the reassurance of each other. Jack smiled at Sam like a dope, uncharacteristically mushy with the feel of Sam in his arms. "You said earlier that you didn't come back for me. So why did you come back?"

Sam remembered denying it in the conference room, but she'd been embarrassed and trying to save face at the time. After seeing his breakdown at the thought of her leaving, she didn't really care if it was embarrassing anymore. "I lied. I did come back for you." She shrugged. "And because it was really boring."

He grinned. "So you are a suck-something or other?"

"Don't be crass!" She swatted playfully at him. "I came back because I love you."

Jack stared stupidly for several long, silent minutes, more because he couldn't stop smiling long enough to answer than because he didn't want to reciprocate. After so many years of denying his feelings, and then so many years of pretending he hadn't admitted that he had denied his feelings, it was almost harder to let them out. But he finally managed to force out words, in between the kisses he was raining on her face. "I love you too."

Janet smiled to herself. "That's it!" Two very startled people looked up at her words, having forgotten they weren't alone in their happy little universe. "Colonel O'Neill, your unresolved feelings for Major Carter have obviously resulted in a psychological manifestation."

Jack's goofy smile didn't fade. "Oh, they're resolved now, Janet."

She nodded. "Exactly, sir. You weren't able to resolve them while Sam was alive, so you've unconsciously created this delusion to get resolution."

Sam scowled. "I'm not a delusion."

"All the delusions say that." Jack looked at Janet. "That doesn't explain Teal'c and Daniel." Jack looked back at Sam. "But if it gets me out of having my head shrunk, she can believe whatever she wants to believe." Jack stood up, keeping Sam's hand in his and smiled at Janet. "So we're good, right?"

Janet looked at her watch. "I'm going to keep you all under observation until the general calls back, so you'll just have to sit tight. The delusion itself doesn't seem to be dangerous and if it helps you through your grief, then it could be a good thing." With that, she turned back to her files.

SG-1 stared at each other. They were spread throughout the infirmary, but there was no one else there besides Janet and the SFs who were ignoring them. Although, with the exception of Jack, they could have amused themselves for hours with nothing to do, and even Jack could amuse himself for hours by staring at Sam, being told to amuse themselves instantaneously rendered them bored. As easily as Jack and Sam could have kept each other occupied, they didn't dare with an audience. To reduce the temptation, Sam separated their hands and sat on the bed opposite the one Jack had parked on. The minutes started to tick past.

Sam was the first one to break, jumping off the bed after a fairly short time. "I'm bored. Is it ok if I go poke around in my lab for a while?"

"You're not going anywhere without me." Aware that he looked clingy and lovesick in front of friends and coworkers, Jack cleared his throat. "Besides, there might be other people working in there."

"You didn't! Is nothing sacred?" Sam hadn't expected them to keep her lab the way she'd left it forever, but she'd kind of hoped they'd wait more than three weeks before moving someone else in there. She was in the military, however, and she understood that even if people had been sentimental, no one was going to admit to it.

"Now that you're back, we'll find you somewhere else to work." Jack didn't want to mention that it would probably be in a corner of Daniel's office or a storage closet until other people started warming up to the fact that Sam was there.

The idea comforted her somewhat, but there was a nagging sensation in her brain - the one that wasn't happy unless there was a calculator in her hand and an equation that took up several sheets of paper in front of her. "I'm still bored."

"Don't whine, Carter. I'm bored too."

Janet glared at Jack, obviously thinking he was just pretending to talk to Sam when his comment was really directed at her. "Colonel, I'm under orders to keep you here. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

"Why did the general order this anyway?" Because, as far as Jack could tell, Hammond had been the one seeing levitating pitchers.

"Because you all scared him." A smile worked its way across her face despite her best attempts to keep it at bay. "Which must have taken some doing."

"All Carter did was pour him a cup of coffee! Why would he be scared of Carter anyway?" Jack wasn't sure anyone but he was really scared of Carter when she wasn't armed.

Janet shrugged. "Honestly, sir, Sam could be a little intimidating."

Rather than admit that he too was intimidated by Sam when she was mad, he did his best to look surprised. Besides the fact that Sam very rarely tried to scare people, Jack knew tiny little Janet was far more frightening any day. "How on Earth could anyone be afraid of Carter?"

"She wasn't a foot taller than you. Imagine Sam angry." Janet paused dramatically until Jack appeared suitably worried, which Janet had no idea was because Sam was, in fact, getting rather angry, at the conversation topic. "Now imagine angry Sam bigger and stronger than you." Janet smiled as Jack's eyes grew wider. "Although I should probably tell you it was only when you were injured and I was keeping her from getting to you, even though it was for your own good."

"Oh." Jack smiled at Sam, who'd suddenly started to feel guilty for intimidating the only female friend she had. "If it makes you feel any better, Janet, angry Sam scars the crap out of me too."

Janet nodded and turned back to reading. "It does, sir. Thank you."

Bored and embarrassed, Sam scoured the room for something to play with. She didn't want to leave, not when Jack had asked her not to. All she could find was a pile of rubber bands, which she carefully aimed and fired at the file Janet was reading. Janet did her best to ignore it as long as she could.

"Whoever is doing that, will you stop, please? It's not up to me about keeping you here."

Jack grinned. "Hey, doc, who are you talking to?"

Janet turned around, holding up the amassed collection of rubber bands. "I was talking to whichever one of you is shooting these at me." To Janet's dismay, none of the three men were near the pile of unfired rubber bands sitting on the bed with Sam.

Jack motioned around the room. "It wasn't Daniel or Teal'c or me. Who does that leave?" Sam was eagerly anticipating Janet's answer because, scientifically, if she ruled out the three people she could see, Janet would be forced to reach the conclusion that it was the one person she couldn't see. Then, when faced with empirical data, Janet would have to acknowledge that Sam was there.

Janet simply turned to the SFs at the door. "Did you see who was shooting the rubber bands?"

Both of them looked uncomfortable. One of them finally nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He looked at his silent friend who nodded his encouragement. "It was Major Carter, ma'am."

Disappointed, Janet turned back to her work. She ignored the raised eyebrow on Teal'c's face. She ignored the grin on Daniel's face. She ignored the grin on Jack's face. She ignored the grin on Sam's face. She read one line on the page in front of her and then froze, realizing the thought that had occurred to her - the one about pretending not to see Sam's grin. She looked up, not sure exactly what to expect. She saw nothing.

Jack didn't miss the momentary confusion and following disappointment. "You saw her, didn't you?"

Janet couldn't bring herself to lie. "I thought I did for a moment. What you have is definitely contagious."

"I've been called a lot of things in my life, but never contagious." Sam snickered. "Except for when I had chicken pox."

"Come on, Janet, work with me here."

"There are no such things as ghosts, Colonel." Her face fell, as though she'd been hoping different words would come out. "As much as I wish I could believe otherwise."

Jack stood up, nodded at Sam to do the same, and then led Sam over in front of Janet. "She's not a ghost, Janet. She's just here." He lifted Janet's hand and put it on Sam's shoulder, seeing the shock when Janet's hand met something solid where her eyes told her there should only have been air.

She still saw nothing. And yet, she felt it. "Sam?"

Sam leaned forward and hugged her friend. "Yeah, it's me."

When Janet pulled back, her shock and confusion disappeared behind a wide smile. "Sam!" Janet hugged Sam again. "How- what- I don't understand!"

Sam shrugged. "I can come back from the dead, but I can't explain it."

"What's it like?" The scientist in Janet had a million questions.

"More frustrating than you'd expect." Sam smiled as she looked among her friends' faces. "But it's pretty nice to make everyone so happy just by being here."

Janet looked at Daniel. "Daniel, she's really here!" He nodded. Janet looked at Jack. "No wonder you're back to being yourself."

Jack beamed happily. "She came back for me. Sort of."

Janet looked at the rubber bands. "Sam, were you really shooting rubber bands at me?"

"Sorry." Sam winced, feeling rather stupid. "Did I mention the frustration level inherent in being dead?"

"But you can move things?" Janet poked Sam's shoulder, trying to convince herself. "I don't get it. You're solid, but you weren't here a minute ago."

"I am here. I was here. Apparently, my visibility has a lot to do with other people's perception. Existence is in the eye of the beholder, I guess?" She shrugged again. "It also seems to have something to do with my belief. When I was first back, I had trouble moving things because I didn't know if I could. But once I knew people could see and hear me, I didn't have any trouble."

Janet was completely stumped. "So there's really something to that mind over matter stuff after all." She was pensive for a moment, staring at her friend in a sort of awed appreciation. "Did it hurt? Dying, I mean." She tried not to notice the way Jack tensed at her question.

"I don't remember feeling anything. That's not to say I didn't feel it and it was so bad I blocked it out. I just remember falling." Sam gulped, feeling the hint of inconsolable anxiety deep inside at the memory. "It was horrible. I was terrified."

Jack's hands appeared on her shoulders. "It's ok. It's over. You're here. You're fine."

She looked up at him and smiled her thanks, part of her wishing he'd been there to soothe her on the plane while the rest of her was so very glad that he hadn't been anywhere near that horrible event. "Sort of, at least."

Respective of the subject matter, Janet fought back a grin as she pointedly stared at the affectionate way Jack's hands remained on Sam's shoulders. "So, besides being dead, things are good?"

Sam knew exactly what Janet was alluding to and she couldn't wait to spill all the details as soon as they were alone. She smiled. "Yeah, things are good."

"Lucky girl."

Sam beamed. "Except for the dying thing."

Jack leaned down, resting his chin on Sam's shoulder. "You guys are smart and always figuring everything out, so I'm hoping you can answer a question for me."

Sam's eyes sparkled at the idea. Lately, all anyone seemed to ask her about where the hows and whys and whats of being a ghost. She itched for the chance to answer something definitive, something she actually knew the answer to, even if Jack's eyes glazed over while she was doing it.

Jack straightened up, poking her shoulder the same way Janet had. "What are you made of?"

"What?"

"You can't be flesh and blood. We buried your flesh and blood in the cemetery."

Janet looked alarmed once again. "You didn't have to claw your way out, did you?" Jack started to look sick at her words.

"No! You've watched too many horror movies. I was just there." Sam had spent a lot of time deliberately not thinking about the time between the falling and the standing in line.

"Just where?"

Sam wasn't sure, but Jack and Janet speaking in unison seemed terribly unnatural and filled her with a sense of dread about her answer, especially in light of what her answer was. "The DMV."


	17. Chapter 16

_AN: Believe it or not, there are only a few more chapters... Reviews appreciated!_

Chapter Sixteen

Sam's admission was met with stupefied silence, which was pretty much exactly what she'd feared. Because, really, had she ever seen a ghost and started her scientific inquiry into answering all of the age-old questions regarding life after death and the existence of a soul and God and the like, and the ghost had told her that dying resulted in standing in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles, she would have responded in much the same way. And maybe, just maybe, everyone in the room had frankly expected Sam's rendition of life after death to be a little more substantive than it turned out to be.

"I don't think it was really the DMV. It just was very much like it in only the most unflattering ways."

Jack shook his head, his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't get it."

"Neither do I. And I couldn't ask anything because the people manning the counter are slightly less helpful than state employees."

Jack shook his head again. "No, that's not what I don't get." He cleared his throat, trying not to be unnerved by Sam's scrutiny. "I always figured the DMV was hell, so that's not really surprising. What I don't get is-"

Daniel interrupted, apparently having the same issue with the story as Jack. "How did you wind up in hell?"

"It's not hell."

Janet looked disappointed. "That's not really my idea of heaven, Sam." Scientist or no, it was clear Janet was kind of hoping for angels with harps and soft clouds.

"It's not heaven either." Although she certainly hadn't liked it and hadn't really thought she understood it, it seemed to make a little more sense to her. She found that in trying to explain it to the others, it clarified itself somewhat. "It's neither. It's more like a processing office, kind of like the real DMV, I guess. There are a lot of different things going on there in all the different lines and you're pretty much out of luck if you get in the wrong one."

Jack frowned. "There are lines in heaven?"

Sam shrugged, an answer she seriously hated using so much. "I'm not sure what would have happened if I'd stayed. Maybe I would have gotten to see the real heaven."

Daniel looked intrigued ad Sam could just about see the millions of questions in his eyes. "So why didn't you get to see it?"

Sam's eyes met Jack's, a rush of warmth flashing through her in answer to the love she saw there. "I was a little fixated on coming back. You know me. I can be a little driven." She felt herself blushing and rushed to explain, which only served to draw attention to the comment that wasn't so obvious until she tried to make it less so. "Once they told me it was all a mistake and I wasn't supposed to die, I wasn't really in the mood to hang around and check the place out."

Daniel folded his arms over his chest and tried to look innocent which Sam knew he only did when he wasn't innocent. "You mentioned something about having to wait for your soul mate, didn't you?"

Jack started to blush as all eyes turned to him. "She didn't mention anything about that to me." He tried to sound indignant, but he was smiling, letting everyone know that he didn't mind a bit. After a moment, he shrugged at Sam. "At least you don't need to worry about me being afraid of commitment."

She grinned. "It was made quite clear to me that minding commitment wouldn't make one bit of difference." She winked at him. "Soul mates are soul mates and no one can change that. Ever." As much as she still wasn't about to give up on the life she'd enjoyed until three weeks prior, there was something very romantic and inviting about the idea of starting all over and doing it all again, knowing she and Jack, or whoever they might be, would still wind up together.

"Not nobody, not no how."

Teal'c raised his eyebrow and broke his silence. "O'Neill, will you ever miss an opportunity to make reference to that film?"

Jack beamed happily, proud that Teal'c had caught his Wizard of Oz reference and completely ignorant that it hadn't been a compliment. "Not a chance."

The group was gathered in a small circle when General Hammond finally reappeared. He watched quietly from the doorway, noticing the relaxed stance of the SFs who clearly didn't anticipate having to stop anyone from trying to escape and the inappropriately lighthearted atmosphere in the infirmary. When no one realized he was there, he cleared his throat and watched everyone instantly become reluctant and uncomfortable.

"Give me good news, Dr. Fraiser."

Janet smiled a forced, tight-lipped smile. "I'd have to say that it's good news, but you might feel differently, sir."

Sam couldn't resist. "It's all relative, sir." She saw her group of friends try not to smile at her comment.

Hammond closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You didn't find anything wrong with them, did you?"

"No, sir, nothing at all."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Has Dr. Mackenzie been consulted?"

Janet took a deep breath and shot a glance at Sam that Sam correctly interpreted to mean that she wasn't supposed to take anything Janet said personally. "No, sir, I don't think that's necessary. If seems like an effective defense mechanism for them to believe that Major Carter is still with them." She motioned at Jack. "Colonel O'Neill is in much better emotional state today than he has been, sir. I think perhaps the best thing to do is to allow him to believe that Major Carter is here as long as he needs to."

The general took another deep breath, before evidently deciding to believe her. "If you think that's wise. You don't think it's harmful?"

Jack looked at Sam and smiled. "How could this be harmful?"

Janet shook her head. "Not at all, sir." She smiled. "I think it's exactly what we all need." Daniel grinned. Teal'c grinned. Even the SFs grinned.

Sam grinned happily, feeling rather full of herself. "I don't think I've ever felt so loved in my whole life." She stopped short of demanding a group hug, but only because Teal'c, Janet, and Hammond would refuse to participate, leaving Daniel and Jack to look really odd.

Jack winked and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "Not even last night?"

Sam copied his wink and his whisper. "Apples and oranges." She imagined the grin on her face gave him all the answer he needed.

Hammond nodded, ignoring the fact that the colonel was talking to himself. "Very well. Colonel, consider your leave canceled. SG-1, you will escort Dr. Felger to P8S-389 at 0700 tomorrow."

Jack couldn't help frowning. "Sir, couldn't we just look into it ourselves first?"

"No, Colonel, it needs to be investigated by a scientist." He held up his hand to stop any dispute that Jack might offer. "A scientist besides Dr. Jackson."

Jack and Sam sighed dejectedly. Daniel didn't bother to hide his disappointment. Teal'c even looked disappointed. Jack looked at Sam. "What are the odds that Felger believes in you?"

"I think he's probably about as likely to believe in ghosts as I was before I, you know, became one."

"At least I won't have to beat him up for ogling you, right?"

Sam grinned. "You'll probably want to beat him up for something though, right?"

"Just for being Felger, I imagine." Jack redirected his attention at the general who held his tongue despite the appearance of a considerable amount of worry. "Are we ok to leave or do you want us to stay here tonight, sir?"

The general's eyes slid toward Janet. "Can you assure me that this isn't harmful?"

Janet smiled at the group of four, the unit that was complete once again. "Yes, sir, they're fine."

Trusting the doctor's judgment over his own, Hammond nodded. "I'll see everyone here at 0700." He shook his head at them or Janet or himself and walked away, muttering something to himself.

After waving goodbye to Janet, Sam led the way out of the infirmary. The SFs, relieved of their guard duty, scurried off to spread the news to their friends, or perhaps to vehemently deny that they too were crazy. Jack was paying a bit more attention to the world around him than he had been in three weeks, so he was the first to notice it.

"Daniel, is it crowded in here?" He thought maybe there'd been some staffing changes or something during the time he was drunk and catatonic.

But Daniel's confusion was obvious, alerting Jack to the fact that he didn't have an answer as to why there were so many people around. "Actually, Jack, yes, it is crowded."

Perhaps the most damning fact of all was that Teal'c appeared thoroughly disturbed as well. "O'Neill, I believe that most of these individuals are deceased."

Rather than dispute Teal'c's statement, Jack turned to Sam. Sam looked back wide-eyed. "Don't look at me."

"And just who should I look at?"

Sam didn't want to shrug again, but she thought about it. "This is not my fault."

And suddenly Marge appeared amid the throng of souls. "Congratulations, Miss Carter, God suddenly became available."

Sam glanced at Jack, wondering if he could help her. She seriously doubted it, but she still wanted to cling to him. "I thought he wasn't going to be available for a couple centuries or something." She twisted her fingers through Jack's, feeling his hand tighten in response to her anxiety. "He's got all of creation to oversee and all that, right?"

Marge adjusted her glasses in such a way that it wasn't clear why she'd bothered since they wound up in the exact same place they'd been. "Apparently, he's taking appointments in order of priority."

Sam scooted back little by little until she was halfway behind Jack. "I'm not important."

Marge frowned, looking very sorry that she didn't have a computer to check with. "You are now."

"No, really, I'm good. I'll just wait my turn."

"I'm afraid that's not the way it works, Miss. Please come with me."

"How does it work then? You all seemed terribly fond of lines three weeks ago." Sam suspected that running away wasn't going to help anymore than clinging to Jack was, but she was tempted to try it, with Jack, of course.

"It works however God decides it works." Marge cleared her throat and Sam wanted to tell her to cut back on the cigarettes, but she didn't see the point since Marge was already dead. Marge tried to smile in what might have been an attempt to not seem quite so thoroughly unhappy. "And God's decided you're next in line."

Jack looked around at the hundreds of dead people, who had obviously determined SG-1 was the group who could see them and were all trying to talk simultaneously. "Carter, why do I suspect this is somehow your fault?"

"I really don't want to see God so much anymore, Marge. Why don't you tell him that I've changed my mind? The mistake was made, but it's in the past. I'm over it. We're good. Tell God that I'll catch up with him next lifetime."

"Miss Carter, God wants to see you now."

Sam looked at Jack, real fear taking hold in her gut. "Jack, I'm not going to leave you. I'll be back."

Jack winced at the people shoving to get close enough to yell in his face. He turned away from them, realizing when he saw the fear in Sam's eyes that there was really something to be afraid of. "Promise?"

Sam nodded. "I don't want to go, Jack."

Jack squeezed her hand and tried to put on a brave face, even though his heart was visibly breaking. "I don't think you have a choice."

Sam leaned up on her toes, pressing a kiss against his lips. "I'll find a way, Jack. I promise." As she spoke, she felt herself drifting, seeming to dematerialize despite her attempt to hold onto Jack. She saw his face twist in anguish as she faded away before his eyes.

And then she realized, quite unhappily, that she was sitting in a waiting room. Sam stood up, irritated by the swanky leather chairs and the enormous fountain bubbling soothingly against the marble sculpture of something she imagined was supposed to be pretty. Stomping over to the reception desk, she smacked her hand on the bell.

A petite redhead looked up from her filing. "May I help you?"

"Yeah, you can tell God that I'm very displeased with his timing."

She smiled in a very friendly way. "I'll let him know you're here and you can tell him yourself, how's that?" She pressed a button on her desk. "Your three o'clock is here, sir." Releasing the button, the perky woman smiled up at Sam without even batting an eyelash at Sam's attitude. "Can I offer you some water or coffee while you wait?"

Sam huffed at her, tapping her foot while she wondered how much time was passing on Earth, how Jack was doing, and why she suspected Jack was right about the altogether frightening number of ghosts haunting the SGC. She turned as she heard a door open, staring dumbfounded at the smiling figure in the doorway.

"Miss Carter, I presume?"

"Are you God?" For the first time in her life, Sam thought she might faint.

"Yes, I am."

And then she really did faint.


	18. Chapter 17

_AN: Enjoy! There's only one more part after this, so thanks for reading!_

Chapter Seventeen

When Sam came to, two worried faces were peering down at her. One was God; the other was his assistant. Sam sat up awkwardly, rubbing the bump on her head and wondering if she needed to be embarrassed in front of God.

"Are you all right, Sam?"

Sam nodded, wondering if she was going to wake up from the dream she'd been having the three weeks any time soon.

"Get her some juice, Hannah."

The redhead hesitated. "What kind of juice?"

God smiled. "Apple juice was always her favorite, right, Sam?"

Sam nodded. She wanted to be amazed that a complete stranger knew that, but she reminded herself that he was God. "Yes, sir." She watched the girl leave and found her mental list of questions. "Have you always been God?"

He smiled. "Of course. It's not really a job you'd find in the classifieds."

The girl returned with a cup of juice. "Here you go."

Sam reached for it, not actually having any desire whatsoever to drink it. "Thank you-" She paused, searching her memory for the name she'd just heard.

The girl smiled. "Hannah."

Sam nodded, glancing between God and Hannah repeatedly. "So, if you're God," She pointed at him and then turned to Hannah. "Does that mean you're holy Hannah?"

Hannah shook her head. "No, just regular Hannah."

God stood up, offering his hand to help Sam up. "Drink your juice. I don't want you passing out again."

"I don't really think my problem is low blood sugar, sir." She obediently swallowed the liquid anyway.

God smiled. "No, probably not, but you did love apple juice."

Sam couldn't argue. As a kid, she'd sneak drinks of juice and then fill the bottle up with water to hide it. She started to wonder if she should apologize for that. "So, you've always been God?"

God furrowed his brow. "Didn't I just answer that?"

"I know. I just-" Sam shrugged and decided she wasn't going to resist the urge to do so ever again because there was no point. "I guess I always thought your obnoxious omnipotence was ego."

He smiled widely. "No, I am all-knowing."

Sam handed her empty glass to Hannah. "And all this time I just thought you were my dad."

He nodded as he led her into his office. "It used to be that people were comforted by their father."

Sam sat down in the chair facing God's beautiful cherry desk. "I am comforted by my father. It's just that I never realized you were God."

God sat down and pressed a few buttons on his keyboard. "I'm not actually your father, Sam. I usually assume the appearance of one's father when I speak with them."

"You're not really Jacob Carter, then?"

"No."

"You just look like him?"

"Right." God folded his hands. ""I can appear in my natural form if you prefer."

Sam's face lit up. "Oh, thank God!"

"You're welcome." In a second, God's image switched from that of her father to a non-descript, perfectly average middle-aged man with warm eyes and flecks of silver in his dark hair dressed in what Sam could tell immediately was a very expensive suit. His hair was cut neatly and is fingers were perfectly manicured. Sam knew he was one of those rare men, or deities, who could pull off getting a spa treatment while reading The Wall Street Journal at a high-end salon without looking out of place. He noticed Sam's study and smiled. "What? Were you expecting long hair and flowing robes?"

Sam felt like an ass and squirmed in her seat. "Yeah, kind of. And maybe a trident or something."

God chuckled. "I'm not King Triton." His laugh faded into a fond smile. "I used to wear the robe though. It kept getting caught under the wheels of my chair and the long hair was a little too hippy-ish for meetings."

Devastated by the utter dullness when she'd expected more, Sam sat in her chair feeling thoroughly disillusioned even though she hadn't even believed in heaven and God and all that. If she was going to be proven wrong, then she at least wanted choirs of angels and floating on clouds, not an office building.

God was a little more used to her reaction than he would have like, but a dumbfounded, open-mouthed, disappointed stare was usually all he got. "I have to maintain a modicum of professionalism. This is a business after all."

"Really? Do you post your third quarter earnings? Do you have a board of directors? Do you have competitors? She was waiting for him to say hell, because having seen Hitler and having talked to Marge, it appeared that there was no such thing as hell.

God grimaced much the way Sam did when she knew she was caught. "You're thinking about Hitler, aren't you? I don't really want to talk about that."

Sam felt a laugh bubble forth. "Yeah, I guess not." She never imagined God would be the type to dodge a question, but she wasn't bothering to e surprised anymore.

He sighed. "It was a mistake."

Somehow his attempt to apologize made him seem callous. "What? Like oops, my bad?"

"If you want to dredge up mistakes, Sam, how about we discuss some of the things you said when your mom came to me or perhaps your even worse transgressions in the last decade of utter disbelief that I was even here to curse? Just because you met a few false gods is no reason to stop believing in the real one."

Sam felt tiny and stupid and slid down in her seat.

God waited a beat. "Never thought I'd stump you."

"I'm sorry. I was just a girl when my mom died and I've seen some pretty awful things in the last ten years." Sam crossed her arms over her chest as she started to feel defensive. "And I seem to remember a few exams I begged for your help on. I don't remember you coming to my rescue!"

God sighed. "You turned out ok."

"You sound like my dad." Because, until the presence of Selmak, Jacob's answer to any requests she made for his help had always been something along the lines of figure it out yourself.

"Is it a bad thing to sound like your father?"

"No, not if you want to convince me you really don't particularly care about me." Sam pouted, realizing there was no way to win since, even though her father hadn't shown it, she'd never actually doubted that he loved her. "I know you both love me, but it would have been nice to hear it once in a while when I was gawky and awkward and nerdy."

God nodded. "Ok, so I didn't let you ace tests you didn't study for and you were rather rude to me, so it was even. But then you grew up-" He motioned at her body. "And I think I more than made up for you being gawky and awkward and not having any boyfriends, considering that you won the heart of the man of your dreams the first time he looked at you."

Blushing and mortified and suddenly very aware that the man she was talking to both knew about the mesh underwear and wasn't Jack, Sam wiggled uncomfortably. She sincerely wished she didn't feel so inept in front of God. "I'm sorry."

God smiled. "Don't worry. I'm not mad anymore."

"Ok, good." She paused for a moment. "Wait, you were mad?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

Sam thought about her behavior over the years, including the time right after her mom's death when she'd used the f-word quite a few times in relation to God. "So why didn't you smite me or something?"

God waved his hand dismissively. "Smiting is so old testament."

Sam leaned forward, deciding she was going to get one question answered once and for all. "So which religion is right?"

"All of them and none of them." God grinned. "It's not so much about anything organized, although it's fine if everyone wants to get together and sing my praises quite literally. I just want people to believe in something and not be mean to one another. Is that so much to ask?"

Sam shook her head. "No, not really."

"So, about why you're here."

Sam suddenly sat up straight. "Apparently one of your employees made a very large mistake."

"Yes, I realize that and I do apologize because I do strive for excellent customer service ratings." God leaned his head to the side. "But I'm afraid there's a problem."

Sam had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, much like she'd had taking those tests that she hadn't studied for, and she suspected God would be as much help. "What sort of a problem, sir?"

"You're not supposed to have a torrid affair with the living."

"I asked about the rules and I was told there were none."

God leaned forward and smiled a tight-lipped smile at her. "Because no one's ever succeeded before. But you're still not supposed to."

Sam's nerves turned to anger. "I wasn't supposed to die either. Shit happens."

"You've created a run on the haunting counter. Every soul is determined to go back and live vicariously through a human's belief in them."

Sam wasn't going to let God intimidate her. "That sounds like your problem, not mine."

God sat back, his body language taking on a much more authoritative stance than he had previously. "I'm God, young lady. My problem is your problem."

Sam's voice was very small when she spoke. "I thought you stopped smiting people."

"You're making trouble, Samantha."

"What do you want me to do?" She couldn't believe her arrogant tone.

God's eyes narrowed at her. "Stop."


	19. Chapter 18

_AN: We're finally here. The very last part. It's long, but it's exactly how I intended and I'm glad that I didn't have to change it. Thanks for reading! _

Chapter Eighteen

Sam couldn't believe it. "You want me to break up with my boyfriend?"

God nodded. "Yes, I do."

Sam truly wished she could go back to not knowing about God because it was better than losing all respect for him. "Honestly, sir, don't you have anything better to do? Is my relationship with Jack really the most important thing in all of creation?" She said it incredulously, but as far as she was concerned, her relationship with Jack was the most important thing in the universe. She'd just expected God to feel differently.

"Sam, all of the souls have abandoned me and are haunting the living. The world is going to be awfully crowded with everyone who has ever lived walking around."

Sam tried to fathom what he was saying, but it was too much to even imagine. "Every soul?"

"With the exception of Marge and Hannah."

"Wow." Sam actually felt bad for the very dejected looking deity before her. But somehow, she took comfort in it too. She had never been one to break rules or screw up or cause problems, so it was nice to know that the one time she did, it more than equaled a lifetime of making trouble.

Sam stood up, trying to regain some of the strength she normally had. "What's it worth to you?" She smiled at the shocked expression on God's face. "I mean, it is all the fault of a case worker who you obviously don't have the time or the desire to oversee appropriately."

God sighed as he thought quietly for a few seconds. "You know, when I allowed life to crawl out of the sea and evolve into humans, I thought they turned out pretty well, you know, except for the free will thing I've been rethinking forever. The only real issue I saw was that they're so forgetful."

Sam's eyes darted around the room, wondering both where the conversation was going and if she'd forgotten something important. "Sir?"

God smiled. "Over the years, I've realized that the forgetfulness isn't really a flaw because it allows me to make the occasional correction."

Sam smiled, feeling that the conversation was going her way. "How so?"

As she spoke a bright light flashed, enveloping her in her in its essence. Before she had a second to react to the beauty surrounding her, she felt a sharp, searing pain in her head. She wrapped her hands around her head and heard herself screaming in agony as she started to fall. Her eyes opened for the briefest of seconds, nearly blinded by the loving smile of God as he watched her.

"I work in mysterious ways."

For a long, long space of time, Sam lay where she had landed. Her eyes were closed tightly. The only thing she felt was pain. Everything hurt. Things she didn't know she had hurt. She thought about getting up, but just the thought made her moan, either from the idea of how much moving would hurt or from the pain even her brain seemed to be feeling.

An arm slid under her neck, lifting her upper body and leaning her against something. It was only after a second arm came around her that she realized she was in someone's arms. Whose arms, however, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. Confusion and pain usually equated to being with people, or things, she'd generally prefer not to be near.

The last words she remembered rang in her ears, only serving to confuse her further. "What do you mean mysterious?' She wasn't even sure who was mysterious, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from muttering the question.

"I didn't say anything was mysterious." It wasn't the voice Sam expected to hear, even though she hadn't consciously expected to hear anyone in particular, and her eyes popped open in response.

She smiled up at him, realizing it was a little out of the ordinary for him to hold her like that. Not that she minded. "Jack?" No, she didn't mind the slightest bit.

He smiled back at her. "Why are you surprised to see me?"

Sam shook her head; loathe to reveal the disjointed train of thought that had been running through her mind. "I'm not surprised." She tried to sit up in an effort to hide her mental discomfort.

Jack's arms froze for a moment, instinctively fighting to keep her close, but then his hold relaxed. "Why are you mad? Did I do something wrong?"

Sam shook her head again, straightening her vest and trying to figure out why everything felt so wrong. Well, everything besides those few blissful moments when she'd been in her CO's arms. "I'm not mad at you, sir."

"Who are you mad at?" Jack started gathering up pieces of whatever had broken when she fell.

Unfortunately, things weren't getting any clearer. "I'm not mad at anyone."

Jack stood up, helping Sam to her feet and trying not to notice the odd, panicky way she pulled her hands back. "You're mad at someone and if you won't tell me who, I can only assume it's me."

"I was just thinking about something." Sam looked around the room, which was more of a cave, allowing a shiver of complete terror to run through her at the realization she ha no idea where she was or what she was meant to be doing there. Even though she'd just pulled away from him, she grabbed for his hand to reassure herself, pretending that the behavior wasn't at all out of character for her.

Jack didn't know what to make of the way she was acting, but he wasn't about to rebuff her for initiating physical contact. His fingers tangled with hers. "What were you thinking about?"

"God." Sam's answer surprised her, not only because it had been spontaneous and unconscious, but also because something told her it was entirely true.

Jack looked freaked. "You were praying?"

Sam realized she was holding her CO's hand, but for whatever reason, she felt no compulsion to let go. "Sort of." She looked around the still unfamiliar room, sad that nothing had started to come back to her. "I guess." She shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Jack's forehead creased in terrible concern for her as he watched Sam's obvious confusion play out. "Felger! What did you do to her?"

Sam finally noticed the other scientist; the one crouched down behind a large rock that wasn't quite large enough to hide him. She didn't mention that she'd had no idea Felger was there because she didn't even know where there was.

Felger grimaced as he stood up, visibly shaking. "I didn't intend to hurt Major Carter." He looked around, probably for an escape route and determined he couldn't get to it. "I didn't realize she was there."

Sam waited for Jack to yell at Felger since he was undoubtedly responsible for hurting her, but Jack was remarkably calm as her stared at Felger. "Where did you think she was Felger?"

"Actually, Colonel, I don't remember Major Carter coming with us. I thought I was here to replace her." His voice grew weaker as he spoke until it trailed off almost entirely. His eyes darted around as he tried to process the tangled, conflicting thoughts in his head.

"Of course I came with you. I'm here, aren't I?" For some reason, some reason that was entirely beyond her grasp, Sam was rather nervous to hear the answer.

Jack looked nervous too. "You know, Carter, I don't remember you coming with us either."

"Why wouldn't I accompany you on a mission, sir?" They were dressed in field gear with weapons and packs and Sam knew that she and Jack and Felger hadn't decided to go exploring caves on Earth. Even so, she was somehow sure there was a perfectly valid reason that she hadn't gone with them, which appeared to make no sense and which completely evaded her. She blinked at Jack, feeling the gears in her brain spin uselessly without clicking into place. She wondered idly if that was how normal, non-genius types felt in the physics classes she'd innately understood. She motioned toward Felger. "Sir, why is he here?" She was the resident scientist on SG-1, after all, and Jack would certainly know why she'd been replaced or needed Felger's help.

Jack looked concerned. "You don't remember, Carter?"

Sam ducked, realizing she'd given aware the extent of her memory loss. "I might have bumped my head when I fell, sir."

"Felger, get packed up. We're leaving." He looked at Sam's stunned face and squeezed her hand. "I don't remember why he's here either."

With very little in the way of an explanation to an equally disoriented Daniel and Teal'c, the five of them raced for the gate. The fear that they might all forget how to get home or even that they weren't home already spurred them to run. The group stumbled through the gate, tripping over one another.

General Hammond and Dr. Fraiser were waiting at the end of the ramp. The general smiled. "Welcome back, SG-" He tried to subtly check the patches on their sleeves. "One."

The members of the team noticed the hesitation, but Jack was the only one who spoke. "Is everything all right, sir?"

The general nodded. "You'll need to get checked out by Dr. Fraiser right away. There seems to be an outbreak on the base. If you're well, you'll be secluded for forty-eight hours and then sent home, provided you haven't developed symptoms in that time."

Jack looked as confused as the rest of them. "Symptoms of what, sir?"

Dr. Fraiser spoke up. "It appears to be a virus of some sort. Perhaps the flu."

Sam looked around, searching for sniffling or sneezing or coughing or anything resembling flu symptoms in the staff. "Everyone seems fine."

Janet smiled. "I'm pretty sure that's some form of the flu." Her voice wavered a bit, making her sound rather unsure of herself. "As far as I can tell."

Jack echoed Sam's visual survey. "No one's sneezing or sniffling."

Janet nodded. "Confusion and memory loss are symptoms of the flu."

Even more confused, Sam looked at her friend. "They are?" She didn't recall that, but then, she didn't recall getting dressed that morning either, yet she evidently had.

Janet's smile weakened further. "I think so." Her smile disappeared completely. "I'm infected too."

All of SG-1, and Dr. Felger, stepped backwards, as though they weren't also all suffering from newly-identified flu symptoms.

Jack took the lead, issuing the denial he knew everyone on his team, with the possible exception of Felger who wasn't really on his team, would offer on their own. "With all due, respect, sir, we're all feeling fine, so we shouldn't risk catching something by hanging around, right?" He hoped the General's obvious confusion would allow him to over look the gaping holes in Jack's logic.

Perhaps it was the transient amnesia that was going around. Perhaps it was the fact that he wasn't really listening. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he was distracted by the joined hands of Jack and Sam. The general waited a beat too long before he shook it off. "You might be right, Colonel." He turned away in a very lost manner. "Go ahead home. I'll contact you when the illness has passed, provided I remember."

Sam looked at the general in surprise. As far as she knew that was rather strange behavior for him, but she couldn't be sure of her perceptions. She knew she should object, that she should at least give away her own illness if not that of the others, because it could be dangerous. But before she could say anything, Jack squeezed her hand and she decided to worry about it later. If Jack had to get a physical exam because of her, she figured he'd stop holding her hand and it just didn't seem worth it to her.

Hammond watched them leave, searching his memory for when he'd given permission for Jack and Sam to pursue a relationship. He shrugged, deciding that he must have because they were obviously in one and they would never have been so flagrant in disregarding regulations. He smiled, thinking at the very least Sam wouldn't be so flagrant in disregarding regulations, and then promptly started to wonder why he could remember that and not much else.

Sam spent a good hour wandering around in the parking lot, trying to find her car before she gave up and asked Jack for a ride. Her car wasn't in the driveway either, which concerned her. She was pointedly ignoring the 'for sale' sign on her lawn. Jack gave no indication that he knew anything about it, whether it was supposed to be there or not, so she asked him to wait until she'd checked inside.

Jack waited patiently through the inordinately long time it took for Sam to reappear, get back in his truck, and buckle her seatbelt. He wondered if the confusion wasn't getting worse because her actions made even less sense than the rest of the day that he could actually remember. "Uh, Carter, wasn't I dropping you off?"

She shrugged at him, wondering why she felt so comfortable with a gesture she'd always hated. "Apparently I moved. The whole house is empty. Can you take me back to the base?"

"Stay with me." He didn't wait for an answer before he shifted into drive and headed home. At the rate they were going, he couldn't be sure he knew where he lived either.

"Ok." Sam didn't want to go back to the base. She'd much rather drive around aimlessly with Jack.

While they were both alarmed, neither one admitted to it when they discovered her care in his driveway. Sam followed Jack as he unlocked the front door. It seemed strange to her that her couch and one of her lamps was in the living room and three pairs of her shoes had been abandoned next to the door, but just as she decided to own up to not remembering them moving in together, vague, flashes of packing and arranging and spending an awful lot of time kissing while doing the packing and arranging seemed to appear out of nowhere in her memory. She decided the confusion was fading and was quite pleased that Jack had rescued them from spending the night on the base.

They spent the evening making dinner and talking about the flu epidemic and wondering if they should have turned themselves in. When dinner was finished, they settled down on the couch. Jack put his arm around her shoulders and she snuggled into his chest. It felt perfect and familiar and wonderful, so Sam decided it was just more evidence that her memories were resurfacing. Content as she was, and that was quite content, it bothered her that she couldn't remember the beginning of their romantic relationship.

"Jack?" She didn't lift her head from his chest because she was just too comfortable.

"Hmm?" Jack didn't lift his chin from the top of her head either.

"Do you remember how we got together? When it actually changed?" She felt the moment her words registered with him because it seemed his whole body tensed.

He was quiet for a long time. "If I get this wrong, am I sleeping on the couch?"

Sam laughed. "Of course not." She wasn't ready to admit she didn't know. She hoped his recollection would give her something to work from, like the couch had reminded her of when she moved in. She felt guilty it was one of the things she'd forgotten.

"Um-" His arms tightened around her, trying to prevent her inevitable recoil when she heard his answer. "I don't remember."

Rather than getting upset that her boyfriend didn't remember becoming so, the answer soothed Sam's guilt. She smiled into his chest. "Me either. I guess it doesn't really matter."

"No, it doesn't." Jack kissed her forehead. "So what do you want to do tonight?"

Sam was disappointed that snuggling was out because she could have stayed right where she was for the rest of time. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"How about we make some popcorn, watch a movie, and then make love until dawn? How's that sound?"

Sam smiled up at Jack, the love shining in her eyes mirroring his. "That sounds like heaven."

And somewhere someone looked down at them and smiled.


End file.
